


Our Eyes Are Filled With Things (we do not wish to see)

by TheBlackLagoon



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1/3 of it is stuff I made up though, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fae!Richie, Human!Eddie, Long Shot, M/M, Unseelie!Pennywise, some of this is actual faerie lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackLagoon/pseuds/TheBlackLagoon
Summary: “In some corner of his panic-maddened, screaming mind, Eddie was suddenly coldly sure that if that thing touched his bare skin he would begin to rot, too.”The summer is just beginning but it feels like the end of it to Eddie as he's whisked away from his friends and semi-freedom in New York, to the tiny and suffocating town of Derry Maine. With his mother constantly breathing over his shoulder, and a babysitter who should probably be in a nursing home Eddie is sure his life on the outside is over. That is until he takes a fateful trip into the forests of Derry. There he finds a safe haven, magic, friends and maybe even possibly Love.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40
Collections: Labor Day Book Quote Challenge (2020)





	Our Eyes Are Filled With Things (we do not wish to see)

“ _In some corner of his panic-maddened, screaming mind, Eddie was suddenly coldly sure that if that thing touched his bare skin he would begin to rot, too._ ”

All the news outlets Eddie reads are saying it's going to be one of the hottest summers on record. It would worry him more if it hadn't been the same story the three years previous. What's different this time though, is instead of navigating the clamoring sweaty streets of Brooklyn like he has since he was six, Eddie's mother is packing them up for a job all the way in small-town Maine. 

Eddie knows he has no choice but to follow, an unfortunate side effect of being sixteen is that all your life decisions are made for you. They move on a Saturday, all of Eddie's life already tucked neatly away in a moving van ahead of them. All while he’s left behind dreading the six-hour drive alone with his mother.

"Seat belt Eddie," is the first thing out of her mouth when he opens the door to the minivan- before he's even taken his seat. If he were anyone else or if she were someone else's mother, he'd roll his eyes, and make some snarky remark under his breath. But he's not, and she isn't, so instead, he bows his head and takes his seat next to her and buckles his seat belt in silence. She looks at him for a moment, her pink lacquered nails glittering in the dizzying afternoon sun, and he thinks, maybe even _that_ wasn't enough for her. But then her hand is turning the key, and the engine in front of them is rumbling to life and Sonia Kaspbrak turns on her radio to the local gospel station. They don't speak again for another four hours.

Eddie would read a book if he were allowed, an unfortunate case of car sickness had gotten that banned by his mother. Or if she trusted him with a phone he'd listen to music, or a podcast, or fucking something to drown out the wailing voices from the radio. So he sits and watches the city disappear through his window, while it's replaced by yellowing fields of grass, and forests far bigger than anything he's used to. 

When he was younger, and his mother was more open-minded to weekend picnics, he would spend his time in the car playing games with himself. He’d imagine that instead of being stuck in the car, he was flying right beside it, over the hills and signs outside. He's a little too old to be doing that now, but there's a ghost of an ache in his chest wishing he wasn’t.

When they finally come to a halfway decent looking rest stop, his mother accompanies him to the bathroom, eyeing the other sweaty looking travelers with a wary eye. Eddie bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood in his mouth. Her fear is always so contagious it makes him sick. 

She only lets him get a bottle of water, after wiping it down twice with a Clorox wipe. She resolutely refuses to let him pick a snack even when he veers away from the isles of salty chips and too sweet pastries. 

“That apple could have been touched by anyone, Eddie. _It could make you sick_ ,” She says, in a tone that always makes it seem like she thinks he _wants_ to get sick. So he doesn’t get the apple, and when he puts the plastic water bottle to his lips it leaves the lingering, bitter taste of soap and _clean_ in his mouth. His mother has to find a new radio station when they get back on the road, too far out of range by now for their usual one. It sounds the exact same to Eddie anyway.

They make it to Derry by nightfall, and it's still so hot Eddie wonders how he'll survive the rest of the summer when the sun is actually up. Their boxes of stuff have already been unloaded into the house, and when his mother unlocks the front door with her own key it’s like walking into a mausoleum. The boxes are stacked high, towering over him and his mother as they make their way into their new home. 

The first point of business according to his mother is that he brushes his teeth, takes his vitamins, and then heads straight to bed on his single mattress. The movers had haphazardly left it in his new room, leaned up against a slate grey wall. 

While he's in the bathroom, brushing so hard his gums bleed, his mother painstakingly puts on his sheets and comforter. They're baby blue with clouds and he's had them since he was six, and he despises them, but his mother refuses to get rid of them.

She's gone when he's finally done getting ready for bed, and he can hear her, just across the hall, fixing up her own mattress. He's almost shocked she hadn't moved it into his room. He can just imagine her claiming it’s like a fun sleepover. A fun first-night in a new house, instead of an invasion of privacy. 

He takes a seat on his bedding, and plays with a loose string on his plain white t-shirt, feeling too wired to actually sleep. He's kept the light off, and hopefully, his mother won't feel the need to kiss him good night. _If he's lucky_. 

There are two windows in his room, big things that even in the evening let in pools of silvery moonlight. With as little noise as possible, he pushes himself back up onto his feet to check through the window facing the street. The lane of houses outside is quiet, lines of yellowing lawns, suffering from days of scorching sun- _except…_ Eddie squints to see better in the dim light, at the house three down. 

The lawn of that particular home is flush and green. The front window boxes support billowing bright flowers, evident even in the half-light. Eddie blinks sleepily at it, his brain supplying plenty of explanations. Water hogging neighbors, expensive amounts of miracle grow lawn seed but- the sheer vibrancy of the colors in the yard has Eddie staring for minutes on end. 

He’s about to pull himself away, blame his curiosity on his travel-weary brain when his eye catches upon a figure moving around the side of the house. It's too dark to pick out any real features, but it looks like a boy, tall enough to be as old as Eddie. The figure moves quickly, stealing round the side of the house and out onto the street. Eddie's eyes follow them as far as he can until the creaking of floorboards behind his door forces Eddie to haphazardly dive for his own bed. He's just gotten under the covers when his mother's round face appears in the open doorway. 

“Just coming in to say goodnight Eddie-bear,” his mother whispers into the darkness, and Eddie pulls his thin comforter up to his chin as she does so.

“ _Goodnight mommy_ ,” he whispers back, as small as he can make it, but loud enough she’ll hear. He can see her shadow nod once, and then slowly, slowly she closes his door back up. His brain stops buzzing with worry, and he can feel himself relax into the mattress within seconds. He listens closely as his mother shuffles away from his door, into her room, and then finally the soft _snick_ of her own bedroom door shutting behind her. 

He almost pulls himself back up, wanting one last glimpse of the house with a green lawn. Of that maybe-boy, he’d seen sneaking away into the night. But as his eyes begin to drift shut, he starts to wonder if anything he witnessed was really all that special after all. 

**~~~**

Eddie isn't sure how his mom managed it, he really doesn’t, but by his second day in Derry, she’s already arranged him with a babysitter. 

Most parents with boys aged sixteen are trusting enough to allow them to take care of themselves. They might take precautions to lock the liquor cabinet or have emergency numbers tacked up on the fridge, but sixteen is generally old enough to keep oneself alive. But Sonia Kaspbrak isn’t most parents, and so when Monday morning rolls around with Sonia’s first day of work, Eddie prepares himself prematurely for a blissful day of peace to read and explore his new home town. Instead, as soon as his last piece of odd tasting grain bread is swallowed, he’s dragged all the way to the end of their street where the most imposing house lives. 

His sitter’s name is Ms. Kersh. As far as Eddie knows, she doesn’t have a first name. She’s a tiny woman, all brittle bones and sheet white hair, and even Eddie stands taller than her. She opens the door at the first ring of the doorbell, giving Eddie and his mother a shiver-inducing smile. Sonia seems to like the woman, which means Eddie's guard is already up.

His mother can't stay long after dropping him off, fretting over her watch, eyeing the time, and with a wet kiss to his cheek, Eddie is left in the hallway of Kersh's darkly lit house.

"I have rules about this house Eddie dear, firstly, no shoes. I detest dirt," Ms. Kersh says, eyeing Eddie's off white sneakers with disdain, and with a smile that feels more like a cringe he slips them off his feet. With a nod in his direction Kersh motions for him to follow, down the long dim hallway. It’s lined with odd-looking paintings, and dried stalks of flowers nailed to the peeling wallpaper, it all smells faintly of rot. 

Eddie tries not to breathe too deeply as he follows Ms. Kersh’s shuffling steps, all the way down to a towering oak door. For a moment Eddie's unsure if she'll be able to push it open by herself, but the thing swings out easily, into a brightly lit but incredibly cluttered kitchen. There are more dried plants hanging from the ceiling in this room, all the color from the previously bright flowers bleached away by the sun. Piles of porcelain dishes line the sink, piled so precariously high they very nearly touch the cabinets they lay beneath. 

"Have a seat dear, I'll make us some tea while I explain the rest of the house rules," Ms. Kersh says, stiffly moving to her antique looking gas stove. Eddie takes a seat at the edge of a rickety-looking chair and waits for her to speak again.

"As I said before, I detest dirt of any kind, in the house. If you are to play outdoors, there is a hose you must clean yourself with before coming back in. Secondly, no noise is allowed from noon to two, that is when I take my nap, and thirdly, most importantly Eddie dear, do not go past my garden gate," Ms. Kersh says, bringing down her metal tea kettle all too hard, and it makes Eddie nearly jump from his seat.

"What- what's behind you garden gate Ms-?" he isn't given a chance to ask before Ms. Kersh is suddenly, shockingly, right in front of him, her bony wrinkled face so close he can feel her breath on his cheeks.

"There are faeries in those woods- nasty things Eddie. Tricksters, and layabouts the lot of them. The garden is safe, I've made sure of that," Ms. Kersh whispers, so assuredly, so confident in her words it sends a shiver down Eddie's spine. If his mother could see him now. She'd drag him back out of the house screaming about how she couldn't believe she'd left her precious Eddie in the hands of a madwoman.

"Alright," is all Eddie manages to sputter out, and Ms. Kersh nods her head, taking Eddie’s hesitance as acceptance. 

"What kind of tea dear?” She says abruptly, changing her tone and moving back to the stove and her boiling water.

"Whatever you’re having Ma'am is fine," Eddie says, looking out one of the by windows of the kitchen. He assumes he's looking at the garden, although he's sure it's seen better days. The flowers are wilting, spotted with holes, and brown with decay. Whatever else is planted out there looks far from alive. He can see the gate too, and the dense shady forest beyond it. 

The tea kettle startles him with its shrill whistle, and he watches Kersh prepare the tea, grabbing up odd-looking leaves from the bundles above their heads. Finally, she sets it down in front of him within a pretty porcelain teacup lined with pink and yellow roses. The liquid inside looks viscous and smells oddly like composted vegetables. 

Ms. Kersh is watching him, so he takes a tentative sip of it and does his best not to gag. Kersh smiles balefully at him, taking a large swig of her own disgusting concoction. It takes him a half an hour to get the rest of the tiny cup down, and all the while Kersh watches him, yellowing teeth peeking through her thin lips into what's he's sure is supposed to be a smile.

When he finally finishes the cup, Kersh clears them away, adding to the massive pile at the sink. She then ushers them into her living room, a room that could have once been grand, now covered floor to ceiling in books, and unwashed teacups. There's a musty looking couch in the center of the room that Kersh pushes Eddie towards and he sits uncomfortably upon it. She wanders farther into the room, moves aside several books, and reveals an old gramophone. After several silent minutes, she uncovers a dusty looking record and places it with great care upon the machine. 

Eddie isn't sure what music it's supposed to be, but once it's eerie tune begins to fill the room, Kersh places herself heavily in a scratched up, pink, satin sitting chair. 

Her eyes close after five or so minutes and Eddie waits five minutes more as the sonorous music continues to echo through the large house before he eases himself from the couch. He's left a print in the dust, and he shivers in disgust as he wipes his backside off. Kersh doesn't move a muscle as he quietly moves past her.

With nothing better to do, he begins to peruse the books, surely out of all the many she has, there's got to be something interesting to look through. He's almost unsurprised to find many of the works are in fact, fairy tales. 

One, in particular, Eddie finds, looks so old it should really be resting in a museum. When he opens it, dust immediately flies into his face, and he does his best to choke as silently as possible while watching Kersh's sleeping form. When the dust finally clears, and Eddie can breathe again, he finds the book isn't even in English but curling German script. He can't understand a word of it, but as he begins to flip through, several pages he passes have highly detailed illustrations. 

They're all of faerie people, dressed in robes of leaves and flowers, faces just wrong enough to not be classified human, with intricately veined wings sprouting from their backs. They're not like the Tinkerbell Esque fairies that Eddie's seen before, the ones in the book look so much more-

A snore from the other side of the room nearly makes Eddie drop the aging tome, and he watches heart thumping erratically as Kersh shifts in her seat. The music is still playing thankfully, but Eddie puts the book back down anyway. It's no use if he can't read it.

Making sure again to keep his footsteps light, Eddie edges his way over to the gramophone. The record still has a half to go before it will come to an end, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

It’s already around 12:30, and the idea of the rest of the day spent cooped up in this large, dark house is grating on Eddie’s nerves. If he could just take a few minutes for himself outside, well, at least Ms. Kersh wouldn’t tell his mother. He creeps away from her sleeping form, making sure to move around the teetering piles of books with care. 

Passing the kitchen, he makes his way to the front door where his tennis shoes are still piled beneath a dusty looking coat rack. He shoves them on his feet, tied laces and all. He makes it back to the kitchen without incident, and finds the backdoor, painted a faded red with a shining crystal knob. Eddie pushes open the door out into the garden slowly, straining his ears for any sign of movement in the room over. Nothing but the music still, and so slowly, slowly he edges open the door. He’s hit by a wave of heat, dry and burning, but it’s not enough to dissuade his curiosity. 

As he steps out onto the porch to the garden, the damp musty smell of the house evaporates, leaving only the sweet scent of soil and herbs. The wood of the porch creaks under him and he quickly closes the door behind himself in an effort to conceal the noise. He jump-steps out onto the cleared path.

The dried dead grass crunches beneath his shoes as he walks, eyeing the other dying plants around him. The beds are messy and unkempt, weeds overgrowing most of the withering plants. Eddie can’t explain why but the garden makes him uneasy, all the death surrounding him at once. It makes no sense to him why a woman like Kersh, who hates dirt so vehemently, would have a garden anyway.

Kersh’s warning of the forest jumps to Eddie’s mind as he glances up at the tall off-white fence in front of him. His feeling of unease grows, and suddenly he knows he has to go, he has to push through that gate and leave this enclosed garden of decay. 

Quickly he pushes himself forward until his hands are on the splintering wood, and he can feel the hinges give way. As soon as the gate is open it’s like the spell is broken, and Eddie is standing, one foot in the garden behind him, another in the wet cool grass of the forest. The panic that had been building in his chest dissipates, and for a moment Eddie just breaths trying to come to his senses. He just needs to close the gate and go back inside and- 

The cloying scent of rose petals, lavender, and honeysuckle overwhelm him, and Eddie’s foot still trapped in the garden moves to place itself firmly on the outside. The gate closes behind him without so much as a rusty squeak, and Eddie is left staring in wonder at the forest in front of himself.

The heat seems better out here, with the shade of the canopy, and Eddie can’t help but take a few tentative steps farther in. The smell is still intoxicating, and he wonders momentarily if someone’s grown a garden that’s outlasted the withering summer sun. 

Eddie starts walking, each step feeling lighter as it takes him farther away from the house behind him. The sounds of birdsong are a calming melody as he explores deeper and deeper into the forest. There is a part of him worried, that if he’s not careful he’ll lose his way but- there’s something so right about the sweet breeze on his face, and the give of wet Earth beneath his feet.

When he comes upon a small creek, he has to stop to admire the emerald green of the grass and the almost fantastical clarity of the water. The forest is dappled with afternoon sunlight, making the creek sparkle like something out of a fairytale. Eddie can’t help but smile as he drags his hands across the rough bark of a tree, enjoying the tactile feel of it. The floral scent is stronger now, so close he’s sure the garden is just around the next bend. He can almost see it in his mind's eye. Bursting with gorgeous flowers, buzzing with fat and indulgent honey bees, a smell so wonderful it would erase the memory of Kersh’s place altogether.

Eddie doesn’t realize he’s running until he can feel the wind on his cheeks, a smile on his face so wide it almost hurts. He’s sure the garden is just a few more steps ahead of him, he’s almost positive. In fact, he can see it, a newly painted white gate heavy with honeysuckle, and beyond that, rose bushes bursting with the deepest reds and sunniest yellows. He’s just a few yards away now-

“I wouldn’t stop there if I were you,” Eddie nearly falls on his ass as he startles mid-run at the new voice. He spins around wildly looking for the source and there, where there hadn’t been anyone moments before is a boy. He’s tall but oddly proportioned like he still hasn’t grown into his body quite yet. He’s got glasses so thick that his eyes seem strangely bug-like, too big, and too wide to be staring so intently. Not to mention he’s dressed like a vagrant beach bum in a loud Hawaiian print shirt, ratty khaki shorts, and flip flops. He sets Eddie on edge immediately. 

“ _What?_ ” Eddie’s voice comes out ragged, breathless, and the sound of it coming out of his own mouth shocks him. The other boy stares at him hard, face half concealed by the shade of the trees.

“I wouldn’t step there if I were you,” the other boy repeats tilting his head slightly towards the ground, and Eddie’s eyes drop to see a ring of bright red mushrooms. They look like rubies in the sunlight, shimmering with dew and speckled white, such a bright red Eddie has a hard time tearing his eyes off them. He can’t believe he’d missed them just a moment ago.

“What are they like- _spore mushrooms?_ ” Eddie asks nervously glancing back at the symmetrical ring of brightly colored mushrooms. The other boy just looks at him, large insect eyes squinting at him suspiciously. There’s a beat, as the other boy inspects him. It makes Eddie feel like he’s got something crawling on him and he has to suppress a shiver. 

“You’re not from around here,” the other boy doesn’t say it as a question but a confident statement, and Eddie presses his lips together into a tight thin line. 

“No, I’m not. _What’s wrong with the mushrooms?_ ” Eddie asks tersely, crossing his arms, but that only has the other boy trying and failing to hold back a smile, lips wobbling out of place. It doesn’t do anything for Eddie’s disposition as he waits for a response. After a moment the boy drops his head with a sigh and then shrugs.

“Spores, it’s spores you were right. _Very nasty spores_ , so would you mind taking a step away from them?” He asks it wearily like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying, but Eddie takes a precautionary few steps away anyway. The other boy’s shoulders drop as he does so, and he leans back against the tree, posture suddenly more relaxed.

“They should leave a sign or something if it’s so dangerous,” Eddie mutters, scuffing his tennis shoes through the wet earth in agitation.

“ _They?_ ” The other boy asks incredulously with a half-smile, and Eddie glares.

“The parks department, public works, the neighborhood watch, I don’t know, _them_ ,” Eddie snaps and the other boy full-on laughs this time, his incisor teeth shining bright in the afternoon light.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t kids your age play like Fortnite instead of exploring the outdoors,” the other boy asks, looking Eddie up and down and he can immediately feel a blush flare high and bright on his cheeks.

“How fucking old do you think I am?” Eddie snaps, and the other boy's mouth snaps shut, smile slipping down into an unsure frown.

“Uh- like, ten?” the boy says slowly, eyes darting around, seeming to realize his mistake too late.

“I’m sixteen,” Eddie says coldly, and he can see the color drain out of the other boy's face. It almost makes him feel better. Almost.

“ _Oh_.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Eddie says, just about ready to leave, when the other boy stumbles forward from his spot, both hands out in a placating gesture.

“I’m Richie by the way, I’m _also_ sixteen. I swear I’m more charming usually,” Richie holds out his hand, his face split into a smile that is making something twist in Eddie’s gut. 

“Sure, okay,” Eddie says rolling his eyes, ignoring the hand that’s being held out to him and Richie seems to stiffen in embarrassment. 

“What were you running to anyway, kind of a dangerous thing to do in the forest,” Richie asks, his voice comes out harsher than before, and Eddie tightens his crossed arms defensively. 

“I just wanted to check out the garden, is there a problem with that?” Eddie asks sharply, but Richie only lifts an eyebrow quizzically. 

“What garden?”

“That gar-” Eddie stops as he turns to point at the beautiful, overflowing garden he’d been chasing. It’s gone, completely and utterly. In its place is the same tall trees as there are all around, throwing shade across the forest floor. The white picket fence, the blossoming flowers, even the alluring scent is gone. Vanished. Eddie feels suddenly like he’s going to pass out. 

“That’s not- _I saw it,_ ” Eddie says stumbling back farther into a solid tree trunk, feeling his breath come faster and faster.

“Man, maybe the spores already got to you, I would just head back to where you came from buddy,” Richie says with a sigh, stuffing his hands deep within his khaki short pockets. Eddie’s head snaps up to glare at him, but Richie just smiles in response.

“Fuck off,” Eddie snaps, pushing himself away from the tree that’s been supporting him. He’s through dealing with the weirdness of the forest, he’ll take his chances with Kersh and her musty house. Sending another glare in Richie’s direction, he spins on his heel to start off on the path back. He ignores the laugh that follows him, but it makes his shoulders tense to a noticeable and embarrassing degree.

“You better hurry, that record’s almost done,” Eddie whips his head around to see Richie waving friendly, his mouth split into a too-wide smile. It takes a moment for him to realize what Richie is saying, and then before he can think too hard about the implications of the statement he’s racing off back down the path.

It had seemed shorter when he’d been traveling the other way, and by the time he’s back through the forest within sight of the peeling white garden gate, he’s heaving for breath. He pushes it open, reaching to untie his shoelaces. He has both his shoes off as he fumbles the door handle to the kitchen. Thankfully it doesn’t creak too loudly as it opens, and of course, Eddie can still hear the music playing. He leans back against the door to close it with a sigh, taking in deep gulps of air to regain his breath. 

He wipes sweat from his face, as he curses himself for believing Richie back in the clearing. How could he have known about the record or Eddie’s fear of Ms. Kersh waking up? It’s like for a moment he’d actually believed Kersh’s stories of fairies. With a slight roll of his eyes, Eddie pushes off the door, and begins his way back to the main hall, checking in for a moment to the living room. 

Eddie nearly has a heart attack when he sees Ms. Kersh sitting up in her chair, staring critically back at him. He does drop his shoes, and they go clattering down on the floor with so much noise he jumps. They look back at one another, Eddie sweating profusely from his run in the heat face red and nervous, and Kersh blue eyes icy with disdain. She doesn’t look at him but at his muddy shoes when she addresses him.

“Eddie dear, where have you been? I seem to have fallen asleep too early.” Ms. Kersh looks wide awake now, hands folded in her lap, and back as straight as a pole. Eddie tries in vain to control his still heavy breathing. 

“I was just- in the garden, Ms. Kersh. For some fresh air,” Eddie stumbles out, hands held tightly at his sides. His heart is beating out of control, as Ms. Kersh assesses him quietly. 

“The heat didn’t bother you too much?” She asks, her gaze finally coming up to meet his, and Eddie nearly flinches at how cold it is. He swallows, mouth feeling suddenly dry like he’s spent hours wandering the desert.

“No, no I- I’m alright,” Eddie chokes out, feeling sweat drip down his back. 

“Clean that up for me please dear, can’t stand dirt you know,” Ms. Kersh’s eyes fall briefly to the shoes again, and the bits of dried mud, caked on the soles. Eddie nods fervently, before dropping to collect his fallen tennis shoes. It’s while he's gathering them up that he notices the music again.

“Is that- a different record Ms. Kersh?” Eddie asks, pushing his luck as he grabs up his messy shoes, and Kersh eyes him curiously before answering.

“Yes, the last one finished up just about a minute before you came back in.”

Eddie nods, lips twisted down, as he stands. Slowly he heads to the front hall, shoes hanging heavy in his hands. His brain is buzzing like it’s filled with static, or maybe a swarm of bees. It’s like he can’t concentrate enough to put together all the pieces of a simple puzzle. It’s all there but none of it will fit.

When his mother picks him up for an early dinner nearly three hours later, Eddie is still unsure of his encounter in the woods. But he has a sneaking suspicion, something he’s not sure he can bring himself to believe, that Ms. Kersh was right about the Faeries in the forest.

**~~~**

That night Eddie pushed his food around his plate, feeling nothing but an invisible weight in his stomach. His mother droned on about her day at the hospital, citing multiple incidences of heat strokes and sun rashes and other heat-related illnesses. 

“So many people suffering from the heatwave, I’m so glad you were inside today Eddie-bear,” she says loftily grabbing Eddie’s plate along with her own to take to the sink. She somehow doesn’t notice it’s mostly gone uneaten, too wrapped up in the dangers of the outdoors he’d narrowly escaped. Eddie watches as she drops the plates down into the half-filled sink and suddenly he knows he needs to get away. Just out of the room, out of her presence. 

“The bachelorette is on in ten minutes if you hurry upstairs and take your vitamins we can watch together,” her voice startles Eddie from his seat, and his mother's head snaps to look at him in shock.

“Actually mom I think- I think I’m going to go to bed early,” Eddie tries, pushing his disturbed seat back into place. 

“Why, do you think you’re coming down with something?” she’s by his side almost immediately clammy hand pressed to his forehead, and he has to physically stop himself from flinching away from her touch. He waits as she checks, feeling his skin crawl with unmoving tension until she finally drops her hand away satisfied she’s discerned his temperature.

“No, I think maybe I did get some sun today, I’m just feeling a little worn out,” Eddie realizes this is the wrong lie to have told as his mother's eyes widen to the size of saucers. Suddenly he’s being rushed up the stairs with her voice tutting in his ear.

An hour later he finds himself laid down in his darkened bedroom, stripped to his boxer shorts, a cold compress over his forehead and his comforter stolen away to his mother's room. It’s not the worst home remedy she’s forced on him before, not by far, this time at least she’d believed he’d just needed some rest to feel better. This meant she’d leave him alone. 

Removing the dripping compress from his forehead with a sigh, Eddie rolls off his newly set up bed. His feet touch the ground silently, and pads quietly over to his front facing window. Just like the first night, he’d gazed out at the darkened street, his eyes are drawn towards the house three down. All seems quiet there now, there are no dark figures lurking around the edges of the shimmering green lawn. As he watches the house and it’s blooming floral arrangements he can't help but have his mind wander back to odd occurrences of the afternoon.

He’d decided earlier that it all must have been a trick of the light. That garden was still out there but Richie had gotten him turned around, flustered him to a point where he’d lost sight of his original path. If Richie stayed away the next time then maybe Eddie could actually have an enjoyable time at Kersh’s. There’s a part of him, a tiny nagging part of his subconscious that feels uneasy about this. Maybe because a trick of the light seemed like such a flimsy excuse. Maybe because Richie hadn’t seemed all that malicious in his warnings about the mushrooms. Or maybe it was because Eddie couldn’t really explain the draw the garden had for him, why he wanted to see it so badly. 

Eddie pulls away from the window feeling nauseous, and carefully steps backward towards his bed. As he lays down once more, Eddie thinks to himself that there has to be a logical answer to all of this, he just needs to find it. 

**~~~**

Kersh meets them at the door the next morning, wearing an ankle-length floral thing that's dusted with flour. 

“I made scones, I hope you like blueberries,” Ms. Kersh says happily as she lets them into the hallway. Eddie can feel his stomach give a jolt at the thought, remembering yesterday’s tea tasting experience. He had little hope Kersh’s cooking would be any better.

“He’s allergic,” his mother snipes harshly, running a disinfectant wipe absently across Eddie’s face, removing an unclean mark only she seems able to see. Once she’s sure he’s clean and okay to be left, she blows him an absentminded kiss, and Ms. Kersh waves as she departs quickly down the porch steps. Eddie can only be relieved for a moment until Kersh closes the door, and the strong morning light is diminished down to the house's regular gloom.

“I’ll make you a new batch of scones without blueberries, you can hand me the ingredients I need,” Ms. Kersh says motioning with a toothy smile. Eddie nods forlornly, slipping out of his shoes before he can be scolded, and then files down the cluttered hallway into the grime filled kitchen. There’s a new stench permeating the air today, and his nose was immediately drawn to the table where blackened hunks of dough sat on the dining table. Eddie shivers internally at having closely missed that particular bullet. Maybe he could save this set of scones from being burned beyond recognition by keeping a more watchful eye than Kersh.

The process is slow and languorous, each ingredient comes slowly from Kersh’s mouth as she tries to remember the recipe from memory. As Eddie peers through the dusty cupboards, and the mildewed fridge, and all the little nooks and crannies of the kitchen he finds more and more odd little things. There are lines of salt across the windows that he very nearly swipes away before Kersh barks angrily at him. There are iron nails stuck throughout the walls, and there are a number of times he’s forced to unsnug his shirt from their rusted grips. And possibly strangest of all, above the sink hang several dozen circles of stone, suspended by brown twine. 

Kersh doesn’t mention the meaning of any of these things to Eddie.

They eat their scones in silence, mostly because Eddie is trying not to choke on his. Kersh makes her tea again, and Eddie doesn’t take as long this time to down it. He tells himself it’s no worse than half the medicines his mother has forced on him over the years, and it goes down easier after that. Kersh seems pleased by it at least and lets them leave the table quicker this time, heading into the book filled drawing-room. 

She moves for one of the far bookcases, foregoing the record player for now. She picks out a book with a gold spine, and dust comes flying out after it as she pulls from the shelf. Eddie watches her from a safe distance, trying to decide if sitting on the couch is worth the grime he’ll have to wipe off as she shuffles back over to him. 

“ _Sit_ ,” she tells him tersely, eyes sharpening as she sees him watching the couch warily. Eddie sits trying his best not to cringe. 

Kersh continues moving about the room silently, her floral sundress wavering in the weak sunlight pouring in through the dirtied windows. Eddie is about to open his mouth to ask if she needs any help with- whatever it is she's doing until she makes a little huff of triumphant laughter. From a teetering pile of books she expertly removes a book with a beautifully marbled cover. Finally, she comes to sit down next Eddie, a new puff of debris shooting up as he does. Eddie covers his mouth as inconspicuous as he can, as Kerhs sets her two books down on the coffee table in front of them.

"What do you know about Fairies Edward dear?"

Eddie blinks at her, and suddenly the dust and the dirt and the general unkemptness of the room mean less to him. What does Eddie know about fairies? They have wands, and they're tiny and sparkly and they're not real. Except, yesterday's adventures stop him from letting out some remark to humor this obviously crazy woman. It's not like it would hurt to let her talk. No harm at all.

"They- have a strong affinity to nature?" Eddie tries, thinking of the most realistic fact, and not something pulled from a Disney movie. Kersh's eyes light up, and she picks up the first book and holds it close to her chest. 

"Anything else?" She pushes, the book held gingerly in her hands, the gold binding glittering in the sunlight. Eddie swallows, mind scrambling for something else but he's coming up with a blank. He shakes his hand but Kersh just nods, seriously, before setting the book in his lap.

_A Faeries Anthology_

It's spelled odd, with an extra ‘ _e_ ’ Eddie's never seen before, but he knows exactly what he's been handed. And it’s nothing but some children's book.

"No one else in this town ever believes me, but I can tell Edward, you have a connection to the Fae, stronger than I've ever sensed in anybody before. You more than anybody should know how to protect yourself from them," Kersh says, and her voice has dropped so low it's almost a whisper, and Eddie has to lean in closer to hear her.

"Protect myself- but aren't fairies good? Like in Cinderella?" Eddie asks, feeling a comical smile wobble onto his lips, but Kersh's eyes stop his laugh in its tracks.

"Oh faeries like to think they're good, but they do everything for a price. All those fairy tales you hear end before they collect their fees."

"And I'm - connected to them?" Eddie asks, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. How could he have even believed for a second she had some great insight?

"Faeries are a weak race, they may have their magic and their trickery, but with each generation, they're children become more sickly. Sometimes, when things appear so dire, they steal away the brightest human they can find, mostly its young babes from the crib, but others- Edward, you dear are a bright human," Kersh says with a such an inspiring timbre to her voice that Eddie has no choice but to listen to it. 

He has a hard time believing me though. Him? A bright human? He doesn't have the courage to stand up to his own mother, to tell off some stupid guy in the woods. How is he bright?

"The books will help Edward, they have all you need to know," Kersh nods wisely, and Eddie rolls his eyes internally. 

“Thanks, Ms. Kersh,” Eddie says, wondering vaguely if his mother will even allow him to take the books back home with him. Kersh pats his knee twice like she’s trying to be motherly, and he tries not to squirm away from her touch. 

“I’ll be laying down for my nap a little early, this heat is getting to me, there's a jug of water in the fridge, and the scones on the table, and of course the garden is open for your entertainment,” her eyes glance to him, watery and red and knowing. Eddie can feel himself nodding in response but there's a panicky feeling flitting around his ribcage. Kersh nods back, a few strands of stark white hair escaping from her tight bun, and she slowly shambles out of the kitchen. Eddie doesn’t move until he can hear the creak of floorboards above his head. 

He’s out the door quicker today, grabbing his shoes, shoving them on his feet as he wrestles with the crystal doorknob out to the back porch. The heat is almost overwhelming this time of the afternoon, but Eddie is not to be deterred, as he closes the door behind him with a quiet _click_. He races across the browning and dead grass mind already beyond the gate to the cool feeling of the forest shade.

His hands push against the splintered wood ready for the give, and the soft breeze that will follow when it's open. The gate does not move. Eddie shoves at it again, harder and the wood shudders under his palms flakes of decades-old paint shivering off. 

There’s a lock on the garden gate, a big iron thing that looks like it was manufactured decades ago. He gives it several hard tugs, hoping maybe it really is as old as it looks. The lock stays firmly in place though, and Eddie wipes flecks of rust from his palms in disgust.

There's no way he's going to be to force his way through the gate, that much is obvious now. His eyes begin scanning the rest of the garden for anything he can use to boost him over. He only needs a few extra inches, and when his eyes land on several tossed aside cinder bricks he rushes to collect two. His arms burn as he drops them down next to the fence, but as he places his weight on them to peer over the fence he knows it's enough for his escape.

Quickly he gets one leg over the fence's edge and swings the other over, and as soon as his sneakered feet hit the grass and he lets out a sigh of relief. The forest is just as col as it was the day before, and the sweat that had been dripping down Eddie's neck suddenly becomes chill, and he shivers happily. Slowly he begins walking, thinking back to his trek the day before, trying to retrace his steps.

He'd passed that creek and that patch of lichen on that knotted tree. Picking up his pace Eddie recognizes more than he thought he would and takes a deep breath of the earthy air feeling suddenly totally at ease. 

The quiet of the forest is suddenly shattered however by a raucous laugh, and Eddie jumps looking up ahead to catch sight of a brightly colored shirt disappearing into the thicker patch of trees. Eddie's sense of belonging is broken, and anger spikes through his chest as he recognizes the voice that had startled him. 

"Hey slowpoke, think you could move any faster than a snail," the voice calls out, and Eddie nearly trips trying to speed after Richie. How the other boy had found him already he can't be sure, but of course, he was going to terrorize Eddie as soon as he could. He sees Richie's running form again but only for a second turning right, and Eddie growls trying to catch up with him.

"And I thought turtles were the slowest animal!" Richie's voice laughs, and Eddie does his best not to yell back. He won't stoop to Richie's level but if he can catch him he'll certainly give a piece of his kind. 

The forest is thinning out, and the sun's harsh rays are reaching through to Eddie, making the chase all the harder. Every time he seems to be close to reaching Richie, he takes a violent turn in another direction. The taunts have stopped, but Eddie can't seem to stop himself now. He's so much further away than he was the day before but he has to catch Richie. He has to.

After what feels simultaneously like hours and minutes they come to clearing and Richie is within grabbing distance as Eddie speeds across dew-covered grass to grab him. Except just as Eddie is reaching out to the image in front of his shifts, and the forest that had been around disappears. 

He's got one foot over a steep drop, his hand reaching for thin air. Before Eddie can even scream, he's aware he's not going to survive the fall. He can feel his body tilting, losing the fight to gravity, he can see water so far below. He’d run all the way to the quarry somehow.

Just as he’s sure he’s through something jerks him back over the ledge. He chokes briefly as the collar of his t-shirt is snagged, but he has two feet on the ground again. His back lands hard against someone else’s chest, someone who’s breathing heavily, and smells like lilac. Eddie doesn’t turn immediately to see his savior just breaths too quickly, his eyes screwed tight trying to process the panic of it all.

Slowly, the person behind him steps back, makes room for Eddie to get farther away from the ledge and so he finally turns. He stumbles a bit as he does so, his legs shaky with adrenaline, and he’s caught with steady hands. Eddie looks up slowly ready to thank whoever it is.

Richie is there, looking shell shocked and sunburned and Eddie almost decks him right there.

“I thought the spores would have scared you off for good,” Richie says breathlessly, looking slightly less panicked now that Eddie wasn’t standing on the edge of the quarry cliff. Eddie on the other hand was having trouble not shaking.

“I didn’t- this wasn’t here a second ago,” Eddie breathes out, hands clutching at Richie’s shirt so hard he’s sure he’s leaving wrinkles. Richie’s got one hand holding his elbow and the other around his waist, face serious but his voice holds none of it.

“It was, you just didn’t see it.”

“How could I have not seen it! I nearly fell off the edge,” Eddie snaps momentarily forgetting his fear momentarily, but his anxiety spikes as he watches several rocks at their feet go tumbling down into the water far below. 

“Why don’t we head back into the woods,” Richie says quietly, and Eddie nods once harshly before letting go of Richie’s t-shirt, instead, grabbing on to his arm to pull. There’s still the scent of the phantom garden hanging in the air, but it’s only turning Eddie’s stomach now. 

Once they reach the tree line Richie shakes free of Eddie’s pinching grip rubbing at the red finger marks on his pale skin. Eddie doesn’t issue an apology, just watches as Richie fidgets in front of him.

“I was following you, you led me here, and then suddenly you were behind me,” Eddie hisses, emphasizing his words with several harsh pokes to Richie’s chest. “So what the fuck?”

“You must have had the sun in your eyes, I mean the number of people who have almost fallen in there is-” Richie’s voice falters as Eddie's face darkens, and his mouth snaps shut after a moment. They stand silently, Eddie fuming and shaken by the encounter, and Richie seemingly debating something immense.

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” Richie finally manages to say, and Eddie’s mouth pinches into a thin line.

“You’re just trying to dodge the question again!” Eddie snaps, crossing his arms to hide the fact his hands are shaking. Richie rolls his eyes, and Eddie nearly kicks his shin in agitation. 

“I’m really not!”

“Okay, fine you know what I don’t know what the hell is wrong with this stupid forest, but you’re obviously part of the problem. Why don’t you just stay away from me?” Eddie very nearly growls as he jabs his finger into Richie’s chest. The other boy balks, sputtering for a response as Eddie shoves past him back into the forest. 

“Big words coming from the guy I just saved,” Richie scoffs, but as soon as Eddie breaks through the treeline he’s following right behind, shoving a large branch out of Eddie’s way. Eddie not caring he’s being ungrateful sends a glare in the other boy's direction. 

“What is your problem?” Eddie asks, picking up his pace trying to outdo Richie’s larger gait. 

“You at the moment actually,” Richie says loftily, shrugging his shoulders, and stuffing his hands deep into his cargo short pockets. 

“I told you to leave me alone,” Eddie huffs out, frowning down at his tennis shoes in an effort not to spend any more time frowning at Richie.

“Yeah, listen, dude, in the past two days I’ve known you, you’ve already nearly gotten yourself killed twice. You’re a trouble magnet.”

“I am not- a _trouble magnet_ ,” Eddie splutters and promptly trips on an uneven piece of ground. Richie catches his arm easily and rights him and Eddie can’t help the near neon glow of his blush.

“Do you even know the way back? You ran pretty far,” Richie stops looking back at Eddie expectantly.

“Of course I-” Eddie stops, for the first time looking around at their surroundings. It's all new forest to him, and Eddie can’t parse the way he’d come at all. It had all been such a blur. He can’t exactly trust his own perceptions now. Richie takes his silence as an answer and starts walking again, motioning for Eddie to follow.

“I usually have a better sense of direction,” Eddie huffs out, but Richie just smirks and keeps walking.

“Yeah- this way, _trouble magnet_.”

Eddie doesn’t argue this time, feeling embarrassed and shaken. Richie doesn’t continue the conversation either, apparently satisfied now that the harsh questions from Eddie have stopped. The forest no longer feels so safe, and as the travel closer and closer to civilization Eddie can feel a weight being lifted from his chest. There is still a lingering frustration with Richie, and his refusal to answer Eddie’s more pressing questions. But it’s hard to stay mad at someone who seems so accommodating. 

This boy confuses Eddie to no end.

Finally, after too long, they break through the thick vegetation and in sight of Kersh’s house and garden. The house towers over them, dark and as Eddie knows, full of must, but it signals his safety nonetheless. He rushes forward to meet the tall fence, almost about to move for the gate, and then stops suddenly in his tracks.

“ _Shit_ ,” Eddie says through a sigh, realizing his mistake too late. He’d created a fine escape out of the garden, but there are no cinder bricks laying outside to boost him up and back in. 

Eddie looks around for anything he could possibly use to get back in, and decent sized stone to move in place, but there’s nothing in the vicinity. Feeling Richie’s eyes on him, Eddie sighs in defeat and walks toward the fence trying to judge the distance. Throwing away any and all dignity he has around Richie, Eddie jumps grabbing for the edge of the fence. The snort of laughter that comes from behind him once his feet land back on the ground makes his shoulders tense in embarrassment. 

“Need any help there?” Richie asks, and while Eddie isn’t looking at him he knows there’s some kind of shit-eating grin on his face. Eddie gives a huff of frustration and jumps a little harder, finally grabbing hold of the edge of the fence. 

“ _No, I’ve got it_ ,” Eddie says, letting out a quick breath as he tries to pull himself up further. His arms are shaking, and he knows at any second he’s going to fall back onto the ground, but before that can happen hands are pushing at his thighs thrusting him upwards. Eddie uses the extra boost, and scrabbles for the edge with his foot, successfully getting his leg hooked around the fence. Eddie looks back down, one leg thrown over the fence, and squints at Richies' grinning face. Richie raises an eyebrow, laughing slightly and Eddie looks away quickly, a blush scorching his neck and cheeks.

“Thanks,” and with that Eddie throws his other leg over and jumps down into the garden. His ankle gives a slight yelp of protest, but it only takes him a moment to right himself. On the other side of the fence Eddie is waiting for the sound of shuffling feet through grass, maybe the snapping of twigs, but the next thing he hears is a knock on the wood in front of him.

“See ya tomorrow, trouble magnet,” Richie’s voice calls up and over, and Eddie can’t bring himself to answer until he hears Richie’s actual departure. 

“My side this time.” It falls from Eddie’s mouth so easily he’s almost surprised, and by the laugh on the other side, Richie’s surprised too.

“ _Okay_.” 

“Okay,” Eddie whispers back to thin air, and then slowly and carefully begins to make his way inside, feeling, for the first time since he’d arrived in Maine, excited.

**~~~**

Kersh wakes a mere thirty minutes before his mother arrives to pick him up, but before while she was upstairs slumbering, Eddie had had a chance to crack open the books she had bestowed upon him. Fairies apparently are much more complicated creatures then Eddie had first assumed. Each book has its own theories on the exact rules the Fae follow, but in any case, there’s a lot to take in. 

The salt at the windows and doors, the iron nails in the walls, and even some of the more recognizable flowers around the house make sense to Eddie. They’re all wards against the Fae. He’s even more shocked to learn about Faerie rings; perfect circlets of fungus meant to ensnare any wondering human. 

Eddie decides as he sits and reads the dusty volumes, waiting for the inevitable moment of his mother dragging him back home, that despite his doubts in the existence of fairies, well- there was no harm in taking a few precautions. The coincidence of the faerie ring and the events at the quarry were too strange to not make him wonder. And Richie said he wouldn’t believe him...

He leaves the books when his mother arrives, tucks them away safely under the couch cushions to be continued tomorrow. He eats his dinner quietly, lets his mother talk at him as much as she wants, and even sits through three episodes of trashy reality T.V. When she finally announces it’s time for bed Eddie shoots out of his seat and up the stairs, knowing full well she’ll be downstairs finishing cleaning up from dinner for another ten minutes. 

There is a silver locket, tucked deep within his mother's jewelry box. Eddie’s only seen her wear it once, years ago at his father’s funeral. A simple thing, with the Virgin Mary inscribed on the locket’s front, a picture of his mother and father younger than he’d ever seen them tucked away inside. He’s not grabbing it for the sentimental value, although his flips open the locket his eyes trace his father's face, familiar but long lost. 

Near the end of Ms. Kersh’s faerie Anthology, along with its list of iron, salt, and St. John’s Wort, silver repels bad faeries. 

Eddie hangs the locket around his neck, stuffs it under his shirt, and quickly hides any trace that he’s been snooping through his mother's things. When she finally makes her way upstairs he’s just finishing brushing his teeth. She sends him to bed with a wet kiss to his cheek, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. 

**~~~**

Now that Kersh seems to think Eddie has come into the light about fairies, as soon as his mother leaves for work, she drops four new books down on her kitchen table. 

“You don’t mind if I read these outside do you, Ms. Kersh? The fresh air- helps me think,” Eddie asks, as he eyes the two cups of tea she’s holding in front of him. Kersh smiles and places the tea to the side.

“Of course Edward, if you have any questions just bring them right into me. I know how overwhelming this can all be.”

“Of course- right,” Eddie muttered as he grabbed the books up, holding them close to his chest. He walked backward out of the kitchen with her eyes still on him until he was clear out into the hallway.

“I’ll just be in the living room, dear!” Kersh’s voice calls out as he’s shoving his feet into his tennis shoes.

“Okay!” Eddie yells back, trying to think if there are any windows in the living room looking out into the garden. There are none that he can remember being clear enough to be seen through.

Finally ready, Eddie rushes back through the kitchen to the back spot, ignoring the call of goodbye from Kersh. The heat outside has for once this week dropped to a still sweltering 87 degrees, and Eddie immediately wipes sweat from his forehead as he speeds to the locks garden gate.

“Richie- _Richie?_ ” Eddie whispers through the gate, but no answer comes back through. Eddie drops his pile of books into the grass and tries to search along the gate for any gaps in the wood planks. Despite it’s aged look, there’s only one space Eddie can find to look through, and all he sees beyond is trees and grass. 

Eddie realizes he never set a time for them to meet, and he kicks agitated at a dried clump of grass. The urge to jump over the fence himself again is tempting, and Eddie nearly convinces himself it wouldn’t be so bad if he were just to wait on the other side for Richie to show up.

It’s as soon as Eddie’s sneakered foot touches the top of his cinder block step that there's a _thunk_ on the other side of the fence. Suddenly two pale hands are gripping the top edge of the fence, and soon to follow is Richie’s grinning face. With much more ease then Eddie had exhibited the day before, Richie pulls himself even further swinging his leg over the fence. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard,” Richie says with a smile, looking down at Eddie from the fence and Eddie rolls his eyes in an effort to conceal the fact he’s smiling in relief. 

“Shut up, we both know you’re taller than me. It’s an unfair advantage.”

“Did I hit a sore spot?” Richie calls down, too loud for Eddie’s liking as he sends a worried look back to the back door of the house. Kersh doesn’t magically appear to yell at the both, so Eddie turns back to angrily shush Richie.

“Would you keep your voice down, Kersh doesn’t know you’re here.”

“Kind of figured, that lady hates me,” Richie says with a laugh, finally jumping down into the garden. 

“Well then definitely keep your voice down,” Eddie says dropping his voice down, even more, suddenly feeling panic 

“Okay but just- I feel like I need something cleared up here. So yesterday you seemed pretty adamant you wanted nothing to do with me, and now you’re letting me sneak into old Ms. Kersh’s backyard. Gotta say I’m getting some pretty mixed signals here,” Richie says with a raised eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the fence nonchalantly. Eddie huffs out a sigh and crosses his arms. His motivations might be slightly cloudy even to himself at this point.

“For one, I nearly fell off a cliff yesterday, so you could say I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and secondly I’m bored. I don’t know anyone in this stupid state, and I’m stuck being babysat by the oldest woman on Earth,” Eddie finally manages, and Richie looks at him carefully for a moment, eyes shrewd. Finally, he pushes away from the fence and throws both of his hands up in a defeatist manner.

“Alright- obviously we both got off on the wrong foot, and I guess I wouldn’t want you to be bored _all_ summer so- Hi, I’m Richie, it’s nice to meet you.” Richie holds out his hand, a grin splitting his face once more, and Eddie can’t help the slight quirk of his own lips in response. He takes Richie’s extended hand firmly and shakes.

“ _Hi, Richie_ ,” Eddie says with a small smile, taking Richie’s hand for one clean shake. A thrill races up Eddie’s arm at the touch, not exactly like a shock of electricity but more like dripping his hand into a cool pool of water. Exhilarating and refreshing all at once. Richie raises his eyebrow after he drops Eddie’s hand, eyes looking him over inquiringly.

“Can I finally get a name from you? I’m pretty sure I’ve introduced myself twice now,” Richie says after a moment, and Eddie nearly takes a shocked step backward at the question.

He didn’t think after a day of learning about faeries he’d be so superstitious, but the book had warned so harshly about _‘giving away’_ a name.

“I- can’t say,” Eddie says quickly, too quickly because it makes Richie laugh in surprise. Eddie watches his face carefully, but Richie only seems amused instead of upset.

“ _You can’t say your own name?_ ”

“It’s- _embarrassing_ ,” Eddie flounders, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. Of course, he was being stupid, and now he has to justify not saying his own _name_.

“Is it Bartholomew?” Richie asks, with a sly grin and Eddie immediately makes a face.

“ _What?_ No!”

“Well then it can’t be that bad,” Richie says with a disbelieving laugh, and Eddie covers his face with both hands hoping it’ll look like a convincing case of embarrassment.

“I just don’t like to use it!”

“Well I’m gonna have to call you something man,” Richie pauses, looks Eddie up and down carefully, and then he grins. “My contenders are, short stack, shrimp, or Spaghetti.”

“No- _no,_ where did you even get spaghetti from?” Eddie asks his cheeks flaring red, and Richie nods his head down, and Eddie’s eyes follow to his shirt. The Spaghetti-O’s logo is plastered across in large black and red lettering and Eddie cringes.

“That’s- you can’t,” Eddie pleads and Richie’s eyes light up.

“I think someone doth protest too much, Spaghetti it is! I mean unless you want to give me your _actual_ name?” There were those words again, give me. If only he hadn’t phrased it like that-

“No, I guess- Spaghetti is fine,” Eddie says with a sigh, running a weary hand down his face and Richie laughs while patting him hard on the shoulder.

“Man, you’re names got to be something horrible,” Richie says with a shake of his head, but he seems to be done trying to pry, and Eddie lets out a shaky breath of relief

“So now what?” Eddie asks, after a moment of timid silence.

“So- now that we’re starting over, we talk to each other- ya know like normal people. You’re new to Derry, what are you doing here now?”

So Eddie tells him. They sit down in the most shaded part of Kersh’s garden, and the talk as the smallest breezes rustles their hair. It’s the most pleasant the garden has ever felt to Eddie. 

He talks about his mother’s job offer, how she’d snatched it up so readily. He talks about New York before, the few friends he’d had, and somehow talking about it, makes the ache hurt less. He somehow lets slip his theory that his mother moved them on purpose because she wanted to keep Eddie away from his friends. 

“But that’s- she’s never been _that_ bad,” Eddie says with a shrug, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. 

“But she’s still bad,” Richie’s voice comes out softly, and Eddie looks up and he nearly looks away just as quickly from the gentle gaze directed at him.

“She’s scared,” Eddie says, and he’s not defending her, he knows deep down, his mother is consumed by fear and there’s nothing he’ll ever be able to do to usage those fears.

Richie nods, picking at the dying grass, letting it fall between his fingers and back down onto the scorched Earth. Eddie goes quiet as well, leaning his head back against the fence wondering how someone as unfamiliar to Richie had managed to get so much out of him in one afternoon.

“I’m not sure my parents understand me, I don’t- I don’t think they can. They love me, they do, and they try to listen but it’s not the same as understanding,” Richie says, stopping his hands from their quest of ripping all the grass from beneath himself up.

“You don’t seem as complicated as that,” Eddie says with a small laugh, but the look Richie sends his way is almost shocked.

“You don’t know me well enough then,” Richie mourners, dropping his eyes again, a furrow appearing in his brow.

“I kind of feel like I do,” Eddie says quietly, almost surprising himself. There is something familiar about Richie, and even despite their rocky start Eddie is sure they’re already on their way to being close friends.

“I have to get going, I just- I’ve got to do dishes,” blurts out, startling Eddie out of the quiet moment.

“Dishes?” Eddie asks incredulously, and Richie nods his head frantically, standing himself up quickly and taking a few steps backward. He’s backing up so fast Eddie barely has a chance to warn him he’s back right up to the fence gate.

Richie back bangs against the gate, and the rattle of the lock and the creaking of the wood create such a noise Eddie’s eyes immediately fly to the house. The windows stay empty, and Eddie’s beating heart slows fractionally after a few seconds that somehow Kersh was not alerted by the noise. When Eddie turns back to Richie, possibly to berate him for not being more careful when he notices Richie cradling his hand in pain.

“What happened, did you get a splinter?” Eddie asks worriedly, moving closer to grab at Richie’s hand. Richie pulls it away immediately, keeping his hand close to his chest and Eddie backs up a step in shock. Richie’s pained expression breaks for a moment, to give Eddie a reassuring smile. It doesn’t reassure Eddie at all.

“No worries Spaghetti, I’ll get myself fixed up at home,” Richie says scooting past Eddie, still feeling out of place and confused. Everything had seemed like it was going so well.

“You’ll be back tomorrow right?”

“Of course, and maybe if you’re feeling a little braver we could do it on the other side,”

“I thought I was a trouble magnet?” Calls up, wringing his hands almost unconsciously. Richie looks at him seriously for a moment, almost too seriously to be comfortable.  
  
“Nothing bad’ll happen if I’m around.”

“Okay- you side then,” Eddie says, almost too quietly, but Richie nods his head in a definite answer.

“See you tomorrow Spaghetti,” Richie says, and forgetting himself for a moment waves his injured hand. Before Eddie can process what he’s seen, Richie is on the other side, footsteps carrying him deeper into the forest. 

As he waved, Eddie had seen in red, angry-looking blisters, the shape of Kersh’s iron gate lock inscribed into the palm of Richie’s hand.

**~~~**

The first few days of Eddie’s life in Derry quickly faded into weeks, and nearly a month had passed when Eddie realized he’d spent nearly every afternoon with Richie Tozier. 

Like Richie had promised nothing bad had happened to Edie by his side, as they spent their days climbing trees, catching frogs and cloud watching in green glens. They talked for hours sometimes, and that's all they did as they walked, hands very nearly brushing. 

Eddie at a certain point convinces his mom to give him a little free reign on the weekends. Two hours out of the afternoon, when the sun’s at its weakest. Eddie spends the entirety of those four hours with Richie and the forest.

The idea of faeries slowly drifted from Eddie’s mind, another childhood fantasy he let slip away. Except he could never let it drop completely.

Richie had some insane ability to drop Eddie off just as Kersh is about to wake up. Eddie always manages to make his way back inside, and sits down on the couch, a book propped in his lap just as Kersh shuffles down from her bedroom. Eddie doesn’t question it as much as he should, there’s plenty of things about Richie that Eddie has turned a blind eye to.

But he’s the only friend Eddie’s got, the only friend Eddie’s ever considered to be at the _Best Friend_ level. So he keeps his mouth shut, and he doesn’t ask questions about the lock shaped scar on Richie’s right palm. 

If Eddie had had the choice, it would have been a difficult choice or not to keep it that way. The not knowing, but suspecting. There’s an innocence to not seeing things clearly, and Eddie was about to lose it.

**~~~**

It was July now, and while they were still a month off Eddie can feel the weight of the coming school year already.

“Man, what’s the problem? We’re going to the same high school,” Richie says, already halfway up a tree one leg dangling down as Eddie watches him fretfully.

“What if we’re in different classes? You already said you’re a year above me in math. It’s bad enough I can only convince my mom to let me have some freedom on the weekends, who going to want to be friends with someone who can’t even come over to study,”

“Listen, you’re not giving yourself enough credit Spaghetti. As soon as the goobers at Derry high school see your cute face you won’t be able to keep them away,”

“I’m being serious,” Eddie says running an agitated hand through his hair as Richie jumps back down from the tree.

“And so am I. You’ve got nothing to worry about remember?”

“As long as you're with me, yeah, I remember. But you can’t be there for everything,” Eddie sighs, playing with the knotted string of his drawstring shorts. He can hear Richie sigh, and then there’s a moment of quiet.

“Listen, I’ve got to get you back, but meet me here tomorrow, I’ll have a surprise,”

“Will it be okay for me to be out alone?” Eddie asks, and he smiles a bit as he says it, playing it like a joke, but Richie nods his head seriously.

“You’ll be fine, the woods have been quiet lately. I wouldn’t ask you to if I wasn’t sure of that,” Richie appeals, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s playfully.

“You’re weird man,” Eddie says deadpan, and Richie stares down at him blankly for a moment before he bursts out laughing so loud it scatters several birds from the trees. He leans against Eddie as he wheezes, and Eddie mockingly tries to push him but enjoying the arm draped along his shoulders, and the hand gripping his bicep.

“Tomorrow, noon okay?” Richie is finally able to gasp out, and Eddie nods because even after a month, he knows he can’t say no to Richie.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, you know I’ll have to do 4,” Eddie says with an eye roll, but he’s grinning, can’t help it as Richie’s laugh subsides from his ears.

“Alright, okay, 4,” Richie says with a grin, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder just a little tighter, as he pulls them in the direction of Kersh’s backyard.

The next day can not come sooner, and as he waits the next morning for the slow approach of 4:00 he nearly lets the whole thing slip to his mother. 

“Eddie-Bear, your legs shaking, are you nervous about something?”

“No- no mommy. Just pent up energy. It’s a really nice day out today,” Eddie says startled from his thoughts of later. His mother frowns, gazes out the window herself, and then sighs deeply.

“I suppose I could let you out now if you put on sunscreen and wear your suncap.” Eddie looks at her flabbergasted, and only after a moment of processing his words does he jump from his seat.

“Ye-yes, mom.”

It’s the first time in a while, in well- _forever_ , that she's allowed freedom like this, but Eddie’s not looking a gift horse in the mouth as he lathers on his third and final coat of sunscreen. He even presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek before he speeds out the door. His usual path through Kersh’s backyard is a no go, but there’s an abandoned place just a little farther down, that Richie had shown him to cut through. 

The house on Neibolt street may stand empty, but it gives Eddie the creeps anyway like the whole place is a living creature. He makes his way through the broken metal fencing and through the side yard, where through the overgrown grass and bushes lies the forest beyond. If it had been a month ago, before Richie and his promises of safety, Eddie wouldn’t have stepped foot in that yard. 

It’s as he reaches the line of the forest that he hears a creak behind him, and startling at the noise Eddie turns to see the back porch door of the Neibolt house open wide. He stares at it for a moment, his heart inexplicably picking up speed. He knows, logically it must have been the breeze that moved it open. Old house, unsteady foundation, doors don’t work as they should. But the wide-open door almost reminds him of an eye, peering open to watch him. 

Nothing else moves, and after a suffocating second of silence, Eddie huffs out a breath of frustration at himself and takes off into the woods. 

Nothing follows, but behind him, the door closes.

The clearing of the day before is easy enough for Eddie to find, it’s a common enough meet up spot for Richie and him, that running at top speed Eddie makes it in only eight minutes.

He’s expecting the clearing to be empty, he is early after all, but when he crashes through the bushes an unexpected face greets him.

“Who are you?” Eddie blurts out immediately, shocked to see for once someone besides Richie waiting in the clearing. This boy is cleaner cut than Richie could ever hope to be.

“Stan- It’s nice to meet you finally,” Stan says with a small wave, bringing his binoculars down for just long enough to look at Eddie head-on. His eyes, Eddie thinks, are far wiser than any teenage boy’s has a right to be.

“Do I- know you?” Eddie asks, feeling flustered all of a sudden, and Stan seemingly aware of the effect his gaze has moves back to his bird watching.

“Richie told me to wait for you, said you’d be by around now,” Stan says astutely, shifting his position slightly out of the harsh rays of the sun. Eddie stares at him for a moment trying to understand this new development.

“You’re his friend?”

“Yes,” Stan says matter-of-factly, and Eddie balks.

“Richie has friends?” Eddie doesn’t mean it to come out so accusatory, but even so, Stan looks up quizzically, one eyebrow cocked making Eddie flush a deep scarlet.

“What do you think you are? His pet?” Stan asks, not quite smirking, because smirking would almost look wrong on his face, but Eddie can see the intention loud and clear.

“I’m not- he’s just never mentioned anyone else,” Eddie snaps, embarrassed before he can even think about what he’s saying. Thankfully Stan doesn’t look phased, just shrugs, and lets his binoculars fall down to his chest.

“Richie usually has a lot on his mind, more now than usual. There’s a group of us, you’ll meet the rest when school starts. Bev is with her aunt this summer, Ben’s at architecture camp, Mike is working mostly, Bill’s with his parents in Europe,” Stan says and Eddie closes his mouth tight as the list of names gets longer.

He’s being stupid he knows but there has been a part of him hoping that he was all Richie had, because the opposite was true for him. Almost sensing his displeasure, Stan steps forward and lays a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s awkward and stiff, but there is a depth of meaning behind it that Eddie can easily glean.

“But don’t worry, Richie doesn’t shut up about you, ever,” Stan says with a small smile and shake of his head. Eddie is about to respond with something that makes him a little less desperate for attention when Stan breaks the silence once more,

“Do you really go by Spaghetti though?” 

Eddie nearly chokes on his own spit as he tries to come up with something eloquent and not totally embarrassing to say to this when Richie breaks through the greenery out of breath with a grin on his face. Piled in his arms are three colorfully printed beach towels, and perched on his nose, over his glasses sit and obnoxiously yellow pair of sunglasses.

“You guys ready for my surprise?” Richie asks, spreading his arms like some circus ringmaster. Both Stan and Eddie turn to look at him quizzically, and the bright orange board shorts and teal Hawaiian print shirt he’s currently sporting.

“Is the surprise you don’t know how to color coordinate, because that’s not surprising at all actually,” Stan says and Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth as a snort escapes him. Richie looks between the two arms dropping and initial enthusiasm deflating.

“Betrayed already I see- and here I brought sunscreen for your sensitive skin and my very own beach towels just for you. I’m hurt, really,”

“We’re going with you aren’t we?” Stan says with a roll of his eyes stepping over to Richie to grab one of the three towels piled in his arms.  
  
“Going where?” Eddie asks, finally in control of his silent laughter, and Stan turns to him with a smile.

“The quarry, it’s better than the public pool, believe me.”

“I don’t-” Eddie balks but Richie’s immediately by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“We won’t be going over the edge if that’s what you're worried about. We’ve got a nice spot to relax, with shade and everything,”

“I guess- that’s okay,” Eddie concedes, his anxiety dropping a noticeable degree.

“Come on, my two compadres, and a whole quarry to ourselves, what could beat it?”

Nothing could apparently. They spend the day as they normally would, with Stan along for the ride. Eddie’s initial fear of being the odd one out is quickly vanquished, as Stan and he are perfectly equipped to rag on Richie together. The day quickly fades to late afternoon as they laze by the quarry water, and Eddie can’t help but think it’s the best day he’s had in years.

As Richie finally comes out of the water after a half an hour of terrorizing Stan with countless surprise water fights, Eddie waves him over to sit.

“So- surprise good or bad?” Richie asks as he lays back, propping himself on his elbows nonchalantly. With his glasses off his eyes look odd, the color of iris somehow more vibrant. Eddie has always thought they were brown, but now he could see earthy greens, flecks of gold, and even the smallest ring of pale grey. When Richie raises his eyebrows looking for a response, Eddie blinks himself out of his reprieve.

“It was good Rich,” Eddie says, glancing away before Richie can call him out for staring.

“Good, good,” Richie says, laying down fully now, his cushioning his head with arms crossed behind. They watch as Stan floats peacefully on the water, now unencumbered by Richie. The sun is hitting the water at just the right angle where everything looks like it’s bathed in gold. It’s at that moment Eddie decides something.

“Ya know- my name's Eddie- well, Edward, but I go by Eddie,” Richie stares at him shocked, the afternoon light making the water in his hair glisten like diamonds. Eddie thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“It fits you, it really does. Eddie,” Richie says voice hushed, and Eddie’s glad that he’s been in the sun for hours because there’s no way he could hide his blush

“It’s- nice hearing you say it,” Eddie says in a rush, tucking his knees close to his chest, and wrapping his arms around them. Richie sits up so they’re shoulders are bumping, and Eddie can feel his heartbeat in his skin.

“Yeah?” Richie asks, a smile playing on his lips, as he presses even closer to Eddie.

“Yes,” Eddie says back, rolling his eyes to cut the tension, but they’re both smiling at each other when a towel is flung in their direction.

Stan’s standing in front of them smirking, dripping with water, and before either of them can move he’s shaking free the excess wet from his curls. He grins when they both yelp in surprise, and he falls down onto the rocks to sit with them.

“Ya know, I didn’t deserve that,” Eddie says petulantly, wiping water from his face but Stan only shrugs in apology as if to say ‘ _you were the one sitting next to the loser’_.

“And I did?” Richie asks, and both Eddie and Stan turn to him in unison.

“ _Yes._ ”

Richie waves them both off, and Stan rolls his eyes as he gathers his towel back up.

“I should be heading back soon.” 

“Aw come on Stan, just a little longer,” Richie pleads, falling back to splay out his limbs like starfish. Eddie pushes him to give more space, and Richie pushes back while sticking out his tongue. Stan watches them silently as he runs his retrieved towel through his hair.

“I’ve got summer reading to do, I got behind while at camp,” Stan says, and Richie _boos_ without moving his head to look at Stan directly

“Boy scouts, a menace to us all,” Richie says with a sigh, as Stan comes to stand over them both with an eye roll.

“This is why I never have to join the theater, all the drama I need comes from you,” Stan says with a smile, dropping his damp towel on Richie's chest. 

“Alright, alright, see ya later sour puss,” Richie says, shoving the towel off his chest, but he raises his hand in a high-five and Stan complies with a grin.

“Bye Richie. Nice to meet you-”

“Eddie,” Eddie replies automatically.

“ _Eddie_ ,” Stan says with a raised eyebrow, and Eddie shrugs. Stan smiles, shaking his head, and then waves them both goodbye as he shoves his shoes on and disappears into the treeline.

“I should be getting back too, I’ve already been out longer than I meant,” Eddie says after a moment, and Richie makes a face of disgust making Eddie huffs out a small laugh.

“Well I’ll uh- walk you back then,” Richie says, surprising Eddie by standing, and starting to collect his dropped clothes. Eddie’s been out of the water long enough he wasn’t soaked and hopeful his mother wouldn’t mention the new curl to his hair when he arrived back home.

At the thought of the way back, Eddie stops as he shoves his shorts back on.

“Could we go the long way?” 

Richie stops, his bundle of wet towels held close to his chest “Any reason?”

“Niebolt creeps me out,” Eddie says with a shrug, shoving his shirt over his head so Richie doesn’t see the embarrassed flush across his cheeks. But there is no accompanying laugh to this statement, and when Eddie manages to pull his shirt on all the way Richie is looking at him like it’s a completely reasonable request.

“Hey, as long as we get to hang out longer, I’m not complaining,” Richie says, coming to stand with Eddie at the edge of the wood. 

“Okay, _thanks_.” 

They walk back quietly, close enough their shoulders touch the entire way. Eddie doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t want to ask in case it isn’t what he thinks. What he wants this to be. 

Their walk ends too quickly for his taste, and when they finally begin to walk the street back to Eddie’s house he can feel disappointment settle over his shoulders. They stop simultaneously, a house away from Eddie’s just to be safe. 

“Thank you, for today,” Eddie says, hushed, and Richie turns to him with a small smile.

“You just needed something to get you out of your own head,” Richie says with a nonchalant shrug, but Eddie shakes his head to stop him.

“You didn’t have to though, so _thank you._ ”

Richie nods, dropping his head to look at the ground, and Eddie wonders briefly if he’s hiding a blush. After a moment he looks back up with a grin and places his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“See you- _Eddie_ ,” Richie says, voice quiet, meant only for Eddie to hear. He steps back, waving goodbye before Eddie has a chance to open his mouth, and he watches as Richie in his mismatching and horribly bright outfit races off down the block.

Eddie’s sure he’s never been in love, he’s never even been close to it. But when Richie says his name, he’s almost certain this must be it.

**~~~**

There were storm clouds, heavy and black hanging over Derry, and they were making Eddie nervous. He was supposed to be meeting up with Rich and Stan in a half an hour, and he wasn’t sure the rain would hold till then. If he came back to Kersh’s soaked there's no way he’d be able to keep up the pretense he’d just been in the backyard. He was considering sneaking out early, possibly to grab an umbrella from his own empty house, when the sound of shuffling feet behind alerted him to Kersh’s presence. 

“You look, troubled dear, penny for your thoughts?” 

“Uh- no, no, I’m fine Ms. Kersh, just zoned out for a sec,” Eddie startles away from the sitting room window, Kersh’s eye too bright and inquiring for his taste.

“Hmm, why don’t you meet me in the kitchen, I’ve got a kettle on for some tea,” she motions for him to get up, and he does so with a quiet sigh, looking back once to stare out at the darkening sky.

“I think I might go out for a bit, just in case it rains later,” Eddie ties, scooting past Kersh to be closer to the back door. Kersh cut off his escape by grabbing his arm tight and pulling him farther into the kitchen.

“You rush off too quickly these days dear, sit.”

Not seeing any other option than to obey, Eddie drew up a chair at the kitchen table slowly, trying not to let her see his frustration. She never kept him long these days, but of course, now that he was supposed to meet up with Stan and Richie for the arcade was when she picked to rant about faeries again. As soon as he sat down, Kersh adjusted her position so she was facing him directly, so close he could see the web’s of blue veins through her pale near translucent skin.

“There are better friends in this town than Richard Tozier.”

“How-?” Eddie balks, too surprised to even deny the accusation.

“I’m old, not blind, I know you’ve brought him back here before. Thankfully the little mongrel can’t get through my door, I’ve made sure of that,”

“That seems a little harsh,” Eddie says through clenched teeth, and Kersh lets out a short bark of laughter. 

“He stole a boy you know, three years ago, little George Denbrough.”

“He doesn’t really seem capable of that Ms. Kersh,” Eddie says, trying not to roll his eyes as he follows the floral pattern on his tea dish. Ms. Kersh snorts unflatteringly as she takes a bite of her cookie, crumbs tumbling down onto the cloth, and making Eddie shudder.

“The Fae are never what they appear, Eddie, I know, I saw one once, without its glamour. No demon in hell could ever come close. Richard Tozier might look like a boy, but he is far from it.”

“How do you know?” Eddie asks, biting at his lip to keep from bursting with anger. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. 

“Because I saw the fairy who brought him, and who stole the real Tozier baby. He’s a changeling, the nasty little thing,” Kersh spits out, crossing herself as she says so. 

“ _A changeling?”_ Eddie asks incredulously, his nails digging into the palm of his hand.

“Changelings are an unfortunate race. Exchanged at birth for a pretty human child, and unloved by their mortal parents, a part of neither world, outsiders even to their own kind,” Ms. Kersh mutters, staring down into her teacup forlornly, and Eddie squirms uncomfortably in his seat.

“ _Ms. Kersh-?_ ”

“You have to be careful of that boy Edward dear. Odd- things happen when he’s around, and you're just the kind of boy the faerie folk would want to snatch up for themselves,” Ms. Kersh coos, snapping out of her dazed look, to reach up and pinch his cheek. Eddie freezes under her touch not moving until her hand is safely back in her lap, and then he is standing from the table.

“Ms. Kersh, you know- my mom probably forgot to mention it- you know, busy day at the hospital- but she needed me to run a quick errand for her,” Eddie babbles, backing away from Kersh, her flowery tea set, and dry sugar cookies. She looks at him oddly for a moment, but then slowly smiles.

“You're such a good boy Edward, helping your mother out. I’ll just get my purse and we’ll be on our way,” Kersh goes to stand, bracing her tiny hand on the back of her seat but Eddie motions quickly for her to sit down.

“It looks like it’s going to rain any second now Ms. Kersh, I’m sure my mother wouldn’t want you getting soaked on her behalf. It won’t take me long, I swear!” 

“Well, be careful then, dear, come back quickly if you can,” Kersh said after a slow and deliberating moment, and Eddie let himself sigh internally with relief. She may not have been blind, but she sure was naive. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Eddie says cheerily, backing away towards the entrance hallway until Kersh raises her arm in goodbye. He takes that as his leave, spinning around and racing to the front door to grab his tennis shoes.

He’s being reckless, sure, leaving so soon, with no plan of coming back quickly but there’s something in his chest, something buzzing and slightly uncomfortable that’s making him feel like he needs to be.

He’s out the door and into the humid afternoon air, and he takes off running, hoping Stan and Richie will get to their meeting spot early.

There’s no other option but to cut through the yard of Neibolt. Eddie shudders in dismay, but with another glance at the roiling storm clouds above, he makes up his mind. The air feels thick as he makes his way through the broken fence. It’s like he’s moving through molasses and Eddie has to keep wiping away the perspiration building on his skin from the humid air.

The house stands towering over him, casting the yard in a dark shadow, leaving everything leeched of color. The yard stretches back into the dim forest, farther it seems then the other days he’s passed through. He’s halfway through the yard, shrouded in the house's shadow when he eyes the new patches of sting weed. They seem to be growing in abundance all of sudden, clinging to outside walls of the house, clogging the yard with their barbed leaves. Not meaning too he accidentally steps into a patch, hissing out in pain and immediately pulling away. He steps backward into another patch, and suddenly Eddie realizes he’s surrounded by the stuff.

His ankles are itching like crazy now, hot and painful, and seeing no other choice Eddie starts running. He’s very nearly to the other side when one of the weeds snags his foot, and he falls hard into the stinging leaves. Eddie looks down to his twisted ankle, blinking back tears of pain, to see the plant has actually wrapped itself around his foot. He tries to pull at it, to free himself but he yelps in pain when the needles of the plant dig into his skin even farther. 

Thunder rumbles above him as Eddie debates grabbing the plant to pull it off, but his hands are already stinging from the fall. He looks around himself, seeing he’s too far behind the house now to be seen by anyone passing the street, and there’s very little possibility Stan or Richie would be going this way to get to the woods. Wiping tears of frustration and pain from his eyes, Eddie takes as deep a breath as he can and yells with all his might. 

“ _Help!_ ” His voice echoes through the air, the wind fills the electric heaviness of the storm, but no reply comes back. He scowls and again tries to pull his leg from the plant, whimpering at the shock of ache sent up his leg. There’s blood now, seeping down his ankle, and staining his socks, and it sends a thrill of panic so forcefully through him he can’t breathe for a solid five seconds. 

A gasp is startled from him when from the rafters of the house flies an enormous crow. It lands about fifty from Eddie, but even from this distance, he can see the yellow of its eyes staring him down. The squawk that erupts from its mouth is deafening and Eddie quickly places his hands over his ears in shock. 

The crow squawks again, even louder this time, hopping closer. Its eyes are almost burning now, like lamp lights, and something deep inside Eddie is screaming in fear. Without another thought Eddie grabs at the sting weed wrapped around his ankle, trying to pull it off, whimpering through the pain as the crow steadily moves closer.

There’s something wrong about the bird, Eddie can see it now, even through his panic, he can tell. Its feathers are puffing out, but it looks like it’s getting bigger by the second, too big for a normal bird. In fact, as Eddie realizes he’s good and truly stuck he sees the shifting of something under the bird's skin, like bones rearranging themselves, moving outward, growing it into something grotesque and monstrous. 

He doesn’t even have time to scream before the bird- the _thing is_ only ten feet from him. It’s his size, and then bigger, and bigger, until it's a hulking mess of shimmering black feathers, a gaping, razor-sharp beak, and terrifying yellow eyes. 

Eddie starts screaming then, pulling with all his might at the weed, blood staining his hands as the thing brings forth a- hand. A leathery talon-like hand, no longer so much a bird rather than a beast, and in the face of Eddie’s screams, it lets forth a piercing shriek of its own. 

Eddie is certain, he’s positive this thing will kill him. Somehow it’s trapped him, tricked and pulled him to this house to feast, and he’d fallen for it, that buzzing uncomfortable draw. He was a fly caught in the spider's web. And this spider looked hungry.

“ _Eddie!_ ” The call shakes Eddie from his mind-numbing panic, and his head looks past the monster in front of him to see Richie. Richie and his too-big eyes and too-wide mouth, looking like a Knight in Shining Armor. And behind him, Stan eyes wide with fear but still there, and Eddie nearly sobs in relief. The creature’s head turns a drastic 180, eyes locking onto the two new figures in the backyard. Stan’s eyes go if possible even wider, as he stumbles backward, but Richie just looks angry. Furious even. 

“Richie?” Eddie’s voice comes out cracked and broken, throat raw from screaming.

“He’s not what you’re looking for,” Richie hisses, and it sounds unintelligible to Eddie, who’s legs and hands are throbbing with pain, mind foggy with it. 

The crow beast shrieks again, moving faster than it had before directly for Richie. Eddie tries to call out a warning, but Richie is already dodging out of the way. STan’s too slow though, as the creature rushes past, unable to turn like an angry bull Stan is slammed into the wall of the house, hard. He crumples immediately, and Richie yells something, something Eddie can’t understand. 

It seems to set off the crow though, as it turns back to meet Richie face to face, thankfully ignoring Stan. It opens its mouth, wide and the ear-splitting screech that emerges, sends Richie to his knees and forces Eddie to collapse in on himself, hands curled around his ears. Richie can’t move fast enough this time, and the beast comes down on him hard. It’s talon hands wrap themselves around Richie’s prone arms, and Eddie can only watch in silent dread.

At first, it sounds like gibberish to Eddie’s ears, coming out the monster's mouth, a mixture of squeaks and clicks, like the worst birdsong he’s ever heard. And then the voice solidifies, and Eddie can hear the words being spoken to Richie.

“ _Did you think you wouldn’t be found little one? It was only a matter of time before I caught the scent of you_ **_changeling_**.”

“Fuck off _Big Bird,_ ” Richie’s voice comes out pained, but strong, his arms flexing in the grip of the beast. He’s only able to squirm though, escape under a creature that big was impossible.   
“ _The other one didn’t fight so much, the boy in the yellow rain jacket, but he was painfully human. So hard to tell these days, they get brighter every day,_ ” the creature hisses out, and it almost sounds like a corrupted giggle, but Richie's face goes slack when he hears the words. And then suddenly, he’s fighting back with a renewed force almost taking the creature by surprise.  
“You didn’t- _you didn’t,_ ” Richie screams, kicking his legs up into the creature's chest, but it barely seems phased. It gives a squawk of laughter, like an entire murder of crows screaming, and pins Richie down even further.

“ _Nearly got another one by mistake, the pretty little thing you’ve been hanging around. I can see why you like him, he smells so strongly of life. But now that I’ve found you, well, maybe I could stick around for a snack._ ” 

“I’ll kill you,” Richie’s voice was nearly a whisper now, as the black tendrils on his skin grew out further. His eyes fall shut and the creature gives another of its horrifying laughs. 

It’s then suddenly that Eddie is so overcome with rage and protectiveness he unthinkingly lunges to his feet. Whatever power had kept it wrapped around his ankle was weaker now, and the weeds ropy body snaps in half finally. 

“Stay away from him! ” Eddie screams, forgetting his fear, and the pain in his legs to throw himself at the thing. The crow beast barely seems to register it, its talons still gripping Richie's arms, and Eddie can see the nasty welts that are still spreading. Eddie tries even harder kicking at the thing, with all his might. As he’s wailing on it as violently as he can, his mother's silver necklace falls free from beneath his shirt, and for the first time, the creature lurches to the side. It’s grip freeing from Richie’s limp form.

Eddie stares at its shock, at the heaving mass of black feathers and yellow eyes. He reaches up to touch the pendant in awe, and the things slitted eyes jump to follow. As the thing shifts, looking ready to lunge, looking ready to murder, Eddie quickly pulls the chain from around his head and holds out the silver pendant.

It shudders again, and Eddie steps closer quickly, nearly touching the thing, and it squawks horribly, rolls backward, the bones of its wings shifting grotesquely, and Eddie nearly loses his nerve. 

“Stay back!” He shouts once more, shoving his disgust aside to push the pendant forth once more in the creature's direction. It’s form shifts, the black feathers, wings, razor-edged beak begins to dissolve, floating up into the air. Before Eddie can react, the thing is nothing more than a cloud of ash, flying away into the wind and stormy sky. If Eddie were more of an optimist, he’d say he’d killed it. Eddie watches it disappear completely, before stumbling, bloody and hurt to Richie’s side.

Where the thing had gripped his arms, there was nasty black, blue, and yellow tendrils across his skin. They look like bruises at first glance, but there’s something off about them and Eddie reaches for Richie’s face. His skin is cold and clammy, and Eddie whimpers softly, before gripping Richie’s face with both his hands. Richie doesn’t respond to his touch, and if Eddie couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest himself, Eddie would be certain he’s dead.

“ _Richie,_ ” Eddie tries once, voice cracked beyond recognition, but there's no response, and Eddie feels about ready to collapse. A groan a few feet away grabs his attention, and Eddie’s eyes find Stan. A thrill of hope gets his aching body moving again, and soon Eddie is by Stan’s side, helping him up.

“Stan, hey _Stan_ , Eddie says the name almost reverently, pulling Stan into a hug, tears falling down his stained and dirty face. Stan clutches back at him awkwardly, but Eddie just needs to know he’s okay.

“Richie- is he-? What happened?” Stan asks, voice groggy, but eyes sharp as he looks out at that emptied yard. 

“I don’t- think I can explain yet. I need you to help me get him up, we have to get him to the hospital,” Eddie says quickly, pulling at Stan’s arm to get him moving. Stan’s stands shakily, rubbing at his head, and Eddie would have to check to see if he had a concussion later but Richie was unconscious _now_.

“But your mom Eddie-” Stan stops suddenly, as he kneels by Richie’s side, eyeing him and his odd bruises warily. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Eddie says shaking his head resolutely, getting one of Richie’s arms over his shoulder. As soon as he motions for Stan to do the same, Stan doesn’t hesitate. The push up slowly, trying their best to not jostle Richie too much.

They leave the yard, in a rush of stumbling and dragged feet, and when they finally break out onto the sidewalk beyond the shadow of Neibolt, it starts to rain. Eddie nearly starts laughing, feelings of hysteria building within him, but instead, as he and Stan vigilantly carry their friend to safety Eddie asks his most pressing question.

“How did you guys even find me- how did you know I was here?”

“He was with me in the woods and then he just- he said you were in trouble. We ran as fast as we could. Eddie- what was that thing?” Stan asks, voice shaky and scared and Eddie doesn’t know how to answer, or if he should. Finally, as they reach the end of the street, still too far away from help for Eddie’s liking, he decides to voice his fear.

“I think- I think it was a faerie,” Eddie says, and he must say it with enough certainty, such conviction Stan doesn't even laugh. He just hangs his head and presses on.

“I- I want to say you crazy Eddie but- it wasn’t- it wasn't _right_.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eddie says, and they don’t speak again until they’re at the steps of the emergency room and Richie is taken from their aching arms.

**~~~**

Eddie’s never been in as much trouble as he is now if the four hour-long lecture was anything to go by. He’s been banned from T.V, his weekend excursions to the woods, and setting foot near either of the boys from the hospital. Kersh had faced her own repercussions in the matter, Eddie had heard the whole yelled phone conversation, and he would feel slightly worse if he wasn’t worried out of his mind for Richie. 

The doctors had seemed alarmed at his condition, but Sonia had found Eddie before he could get any more information out of them. He hadn’t even had time to say goodbye to Stan before his mother had dragged him from the hospital. He’s almost surprised she hadn’t thrown him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He’d looked- bad. Soaking wet, covered in dirt and blood, legs and hands covered in an angry rash from the sting weed. 

She brought him home wailing hysterically the whole time and forced him into the bath where she took care to clean his wounds, and all the grime from his body. She slathered him in Neosporin, and Calamine lotion until she was sure no part of his visible skin wasn’t covered. And Eddie had withstood it all silently, the whole humiliation of it as he thought of Richie and Stan at the hospital without him. 

After this all, his mother had left him to sleep off his wounds alone, and if the lock on his door wasn’t inside the room, there’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind she would have trapped him. 

He’s sure he didn’t sleep at all though, tossing and turning as the sting weed rash itched and burned, and his mind unable to shake the images of the Neibolt house monster. 

It was still out there he was almost sure, but it wasn’t coming for him, he’d been a fluke, an unplanned point of joy for the thing. It wanted Richie, because- and Eddie had given himself up to this fact hours previously- Richie wasn’t human. And the damning fact of it all was, that Eddie did not care, all he could seem to worry about was that he was not by Richie’s side protecting him.

As morning light finally begins to filter into the room, Eddie’s eyes are still open, and there’s an unshakable urge within him for escape. By nine he’s considering climbing out the window, shimmying down the drainpipe, when a very real thought strikes him. If he were to walk out the front door, even in full sight of his mother, there wasn’t anything she could do to stop him. She’d already done so much, even before all this to keep him away from the outside, and each time he’d evaded. He’d made friends in spite of all her many, many rules. 

The only thing keeping Eddie back is himself.

He finds his mother in the living room, working diligently on a cross-stitch. He doesn’t pay her any mind, keeps his eyes focused on the locked front door. It’s as he’s collecting his shoes that his mother's eyes snap to attention, and her mouth becomes a thing and dangerous line. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Her voice is immediately harsh, a sharp probe that almost makes Eddie back away from the door. Almost.

“I’m going to see if my friend is okay,” he says evenly, knitting his tennis shoe with a hard tug. His mother's eyes go flinty, but he starts tying his other shoe at the same easy pace.

“You’ll do no such thing, we still don’t know if those cuts are infected, you could fall down with a fever any second! I couldn’t forgive myself if that happened.” And there’s the tone. The one Eddie despises more than anything else about his mother.  
  
“They’re fine- _I’m fine,_ but Richie isn’t,” Eddie’s voice becomes rigid and his mother's eyes widen in surprise.

“Frankly Eddie I have a hard time even- believing you! You’ve never even mentioned this boy to me, he can’t be that important to you,” she bites back, standing to her full height, her cross-stitch scattered to the floor. Eddie feels a hot pulse of rage then, and with more strength than necessary, he wrenches open the front door. 

“I didn’t tell you because you never listen anyway!”

“ _Eddie-Bear-_ ” his mother pleads, too whiny and too piercing for it to do anything for Eddie but irritate him.

“I’m sick of being scared mom, and you should too. It’s exhausting, aren't you tired of it?”

“I-” she stops in her tracks, hands held close to her chest like she’d been struck. Eddie thinks this is the best he’s ever felt around his mother before.

“My friend needs me, and I’m going whether you're brave enough to let me or not.”

“ _Ed-_ ”

He’s shutting the door before she can even finish his name, running with all his might away from the house, and his mother. 

At first, he runs without aim, because even after all these weeks, Eddie’s never been to Richie’s house. It soon becomes apparent though there is something in him, something that knows he needs to try the forest first. Not anywhere near Neibolt but the spot Rich, Stan, and he had named their own for relaxing summer fun.

He has to go the long way, away from the lines of houses and suburbia, nearer to the quarry than civilization. He runs hard and fast, keeps going even as his breath becomes ragged, and the gashes in his legs ache. He runs until he makes it to their clearing, and miraculously finds Stan. He’s hunched up leaning against a tree, his face looking thin and pale, curly hair deflated and sad. Eddie stops, breathing heavily at the edge of the clearing and Stan looks on expression distraught.

“Is he okay?” Is the first thing out of Eddie’s mouth.

“His parents took him home an hour after you left- he won’t answer any of my calls so I don’t- I don’t know,” Stan says slow and serious, but it makes Eddie let out a sigh of relief. If he was well enough to be taken home he had to be okay.

“Stan- I know this seems, totally insane but- what I saw I can’t deny. Richie’s a faerie Stan, I can’t deny what I-”

“I know Eddie, I was there too. He didn’t even look surprised to see that- _thing_ ,” Stan says, his voice flat as he rakes a worried hand through his hair.

“We have to go see him, talk to him, I think he’s in trouble Stan,” Eddie’s almost babbling at this point, he knows but Stan’s face is becoming even more pinched with each word tumbling from his mouth.

“ _No_ ,” Stan says, his mouth screwed up into a forlorn grimace and it feels like Eddie’s just been slapped.  
  
“ _What?_ ”

“I don’t care what he is, Eddie, because it- it’s _impossible_. But it’s becoming more obvious we need to leave it alone. For our own good and his,” Stan snaps and Eddie takes a quick step back. The grass in the clearing sways silently in the breeze, the soft chirping of birdsong plays softly across the wind. There is a serenity to it all, but Eddie can only feel the icy grip if panic down his spine.

“But he needs our help,” Eddie says it plainly, but it comes out feeling like so much more. Stan’s face wrinkles, eyes drifting up into the leaves swaying in the wind.

“I don’t know how to help,” Stan says quietly, and Eddie knows immediately _this_ is the root of the problem. 

“You’re his best friend, if being by his side is all you can do then that’s good enough. Now, where does he live?” Eddie asks, hushed and then he waits as Stan’s eyes finally meet his.

“I’ll show you.”

**~~~**

Eddie shouldn’t be surprised by the house Stan leads him to. It’s the same house that had caught his attention that first night in Derry, bursting with life and vitality. Richie had only ever been three doors down from Eddie this whole time.

“You ready?” Stan asks, wrapping his arms tightly around the small package of goods they’d stopped to get before arriving. Stan had insisted they needed an excuse better than _faeries and magic_ to get past Richie’s parents, so a care impromptu care package it was.

“More than ready,” Eddie says emphatically, and before Stan can even make a move, he knocks on the door forcefully three times. For a moment Eddie worries no one will come to the door, but then just as he’s considering ringing the doorbell instead, the sound of footsteps on the other side makes him back up.

The door opens inward, revealing the tired, but the pretty looking face of Mrs. Maggie Tozier. She’s beautiful in the ways Richie isn’t yet, the large eyes and wide smile fit more naturally on her face. Eddie can’t help but stare, caught up in the idea of what Richie could end up looking like as a grown adult when Stan steps in to cover him. 

“Ms. Tozier,” Stan says, waving politely from Eddie’s side, drawing her eyes of surprise to him instead.

“Stanley,” she nods to him cordially, still looking a little confused.

“This is Eddie- We bought a care package for Richie,” Stan says quickly and her eyebrows raise just a little bit more. She looks back to Eddie for a moment and then again to Stan.

“Well- thank you Stanly, _Eddie_ \- I can take it up to him if you-” she tries to take the package from him but Stanley pulls it away rushed and they blink at each other in an awkward pause.

“Uh, would you mind if we took it up to him, just to- check in on him?” Stan finally stutters out.

“I- I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Only for a moment though, he needs his sleep,” Mrs. Tozier says slowly, opening the door a little wider to let the two of them through under her arm.

“Of course Mrs. Tozier!”

They rush past the frazzled looking Mrs. Tozier, and Eddie follows Stan’s lead as they make their way up the steps in front of the entryway. Once they reach the top, Eddie can already tell which door leads to Richie’s bedroom, if the oversized Lord of Rings poster taped up is anything to go by. 

Stan pushes open the door without any preamble, and it swings open to reveal a brightly lit and incredibly dirty room. For the most part, it looks like any other teenage boy's bedroom, dirty clothes littered the floor, the bed was unmade, and books and comics were piled high on the bookshelves and bedside table. The unusualness comes from the plants; the vines of morning glory blooming in abundance at the window, the dozen or so hanging air plants and succulents, and the near overpowering scent of lavender and lilac. 

In the middle of all this, Richie is hunkered over his desk, wearing too large gardening gloves as he messes with some kind of mouse trap looking thing. There are bandages snaking up his arms, where Eddie knows those dark splotches of bruises are being hidden. Richie’s head whips up quickly at the sound of the door creaking open, and he very nearly stumbles out of his seat at the sight of Stan and Eddie.

“ _What-?_ ”

“I thought you were too sick to come to the phone?” Stan asks harshly, dropping his care package onto Richie’s bedside table.

“Well, I-”

“What even is that?” Stan asks, motioning to the trap and Richie looks down at it the panic clear on his face.

“Extra credit project for Chem, thought I’d get a headstart on class, I-”

“Richie, we know okay, we know about you,” the room is quiet, as the three stare back at one another, Richie’s face going white as a sheet. 

“You heard It- didn’t you?” Richie asks, shoulders falling as he curls further in on himself. 

“I- Kersh knew or at least knew parts- but yeah, I heard what It said,” Eddie says quietly, and Richie lets out a shaking breath placing his head in his hands.

“Listen- I’m not- I’m not some imposter, _I’m Richie_ or the closest thing to him I could be. I never had a choice in the matter,” his voice is shaking, and Eddie feels his heart constrict at the sound of obvious pain there.

“We’re not here on a witch hunt Richie, we’re here to help you,” Eddie says quickly, stepping up to place his hand on Richie’s shoulder comfortingly.

“You-” Richie’s head raises, and his eyes are red with yet unshed tears.  
  
“What about the other- _other_ Richie though?” Stan asks slowly, and when Richie’s face falls Eddie very nearly moves to elbow Stan in the ribs. 

“He’s probably more Faerie than I am at this point, even if we could find him- well he wouldn’t survive on this side,” Richie says forlornly, wiping at the few tears that have escaped trailing down his cheeks.

“But that’s _not_ why we came, we came because of It, and to help you,” Eddie says quietly, kneeling at Richie’s side carefully.

“To help me?” Richie asks doubtfully, and Eddie nods his head in quick response.

“What was _It,_ Richie?” Stan asks, moving closer as well, his look of initial wariness dropping replaced by worry for his friend. Richie looks between the two of them, and then with a short breath wipes the tears from his face.

“I don’t know how much you guys know _know_ , but he’s part of the Unseelie court- a Sluagh Sidhe.”

“So I didn’t kill him,” Eddie says disappointed, and Richie shakes his head.

“No, but that pendant definitely hurt it- Nice to see Kersh isn’t all talk,” he says pointing to the chain Eddie had replaced around his neck. He raises his own hand up to touch the cold surface of the pendant and is suddenly, wonderfully grateful for the not so crazy old woman.

“Alright, then how do we actually get rid of him?” Stan asks voice determined as he crouched down with the both of them. Richie’s eyes go hard then and he shakes his forcefully at the both of them.

“I can’t let you guys fix my own problems. It told me- it’s my fault Georgie disappeared.”

“ _It got Georgie?_ I thought-” Stan’s cut off by Eichies pained look, and his mouth shuts closed in shock.

“He didn’t just get lost, I should have known with these woods- but it was looking for me, he just happened to find Georgie first, his appetizer I believe were his words,” Richie spits, wiping more angry tears from his face and Eddie squeezes his hand just a bit tighter. Richie won’t look him in the eyes though, just stares down at their entwined fingers. “And now it’s after Eddie- _because of me._ ”

“But why is it after you in the first place Richie?” Stan asks seriously, 

“A Faerie changeling is a pretty big bounty to the Unseelie, we’re kind of- a delicacy I guess. I’m just this _things_ payday,” Richie bites out, and Stan and Eddie stare at him with twin looks of surprise.

“You didn’t force it to cross over here, it’s not on you Richie, it’s _Its_ fault,” Stan says first, voice vehement and strong. Richie looks at him shocked, watery eye blinking owlishly behind his glasses.

There’s a moment of tense silence between the three as Richie seems to think.

“Okay, okay, but you have to promise me if it’s between me and you guys, you run no matter what.” They both start to protest immediately but Richie cuts them off with a harsh look.

“ _Promise me,_ ” Richie demands grimly, and Stan and Eddie look at one another before answering together.

“ _Alright_.” Neither of them means it in the least.

Richie looks between them both seriously, and then finally he sighs and turns back to his desk grabbing up a pencil.

“Alright, now there are a few things we’re going to need.”

**~~~**

Richie sends them out after that, and they give their quick goodbyes to Mrs. Tozier only to double round the house in wait for Richie. It takes the other boy fifteen minutes for his mother to leave the living room for the kitchen, and through the screen doors, Stan and Eddie watch as he sneaks down the steps and out into the backyard. He’s got a backpack bulging with stuff thrown over his shoulder and he motions them silently to crouch behind a boxed garden plot, heavy with ripe tomatoes and cucumbers. 

“Okay, I told my mom I wouldn’t be feeling up for dinner tonight, so it should give us some time before she checks my room,” Richie whispers, sending a nervous look back to the house as he does so.

“Where do we start?” Eddie asks, and Richie immediately swings his backpack off his shoulders and unzips it. From within he pulls a crumpled piece of paper, which he hands directly to Eddie.

“I made up a rough list of all the faerie warding plants I know of around here, you’ll want to pick as many of them as you can find.”

“I don’t know what any of these look like,” Eddie says forlorn and Richie opens his mouth to reply when Stan interrupts.

“I do, I’ll help you look,” Stan says quickly, and Richie raises an eyebrow in his direction. “Boy Scouts, a menace to us all right?” Stan asks sardonically, and Richie grins at him before shoving the list in his direction.

“Okay, all of this should be right around the house, I can’t keep them planted too close because, well- they make me sick, but they shouldn’t be too hard to find. You’ve still got your silver chain right?”

“You think I’d take it off?” Eddie asks incredulously, and Richie puts up his hands in surrender.

“Just making sure.”

“Okay, so this all for protection but- how do we kill it?” Stan asks, and Richie sobers immediately. 

“That’s what this is for,” Richie says as he pulls open his backpack wider, and carefully making sure no bit of skin touches it, Richie withdraws a long iron spike, a decorative arrow at the head, sharpened to a point and red with rust.

“You’re going to kill It with a fence post?” Stan asks incredulously, looking at the thin piece of rusted metal doubtfully.

“It’s Iron, if we get it through the heart this’ll kill it. But that’s not all we have to do, we need to find the gate it came through, and destroy it,” Richie says seriously as he stuffs the iron pole back into his backpack.

“What’s the gate going to look like?” Stan asks, and 

“It’s a fairy ring, like the one you saw when we first met- just- bigger,” Richie says motioning to Eddie.

“That was a fairy gate?” Eddie asks, suddenly very glad Richie had stopped him from stepping within it.

“Not for something like _It_ , but- smaller Faeries, pixies mostly,” Richie says with a shrug.

“Pixies?” Stan and Eddie parrot and Richie looks between them wearily.

“Yeah, they’re the ones who led you to the quarry the second time we met. They’re usually harmless but they can play some nasty tricks,” Richie says rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.  
  
“Didn’t seem so harmless in the moment,” Eddie’s mutters, and Richie grimaces in sympathy.

“Well, they’re why I didn’t realize sooner about the Sluagh Sidhe. There’s a lot of small magic in the woods and I just- stupidly overlooked Neibolt.”

“How are we even planning on finding this thing? I mean before it started- _changing_ , that crow looked normal, it could just be any random bird,” Eddie asks grimly, and the idea of It being in plain sight anywhere sends a shiver through the group.

“That’s what those flowers are for,” Richie says pointing _Primrose_ on the list of warding herbs. Eddie’s not sure what a flower will do to help, it’s not one he recognizes from any of Kersh’s books.

“Alright- what’ll you be doing while we get this stuff,” Eddie asks instead, not wanting to waste time on more explanation.

“Finishing up my traps, and finding the gate,” Richie says seriously, motioning to the rest of the stuff tucked inside the backpack. Eddie eyes the contraption Richie had been working on at his desk when they arrived and then nods before standing with Stan.

“Okay, half an hour, meet back here,” Richie says, and they nod quickly before taking the list and rushing off together. Eddie isn’t sure he’s comfortable splitting up like this, but it’s helping that he’s at least doing something to make sure Richie stays safe.

With Stan’s help, they work quickly together, identifying the correct plants, making up a whole bouquet in under twenty minutes. They even make it back to Richie’s house before he does, and the crouch in hiding for his return. When he comes back his got dirt on his knees and hands, but otherwise looks uninjured. He gives them a thumbs-up as he approaches, and they return the gesture.

“Did you find everything?” Richie asks and they both nod.

“Yeah, and the gate?” Eddie asks as he dumps their sack of found goods and Richie looks them over for a moment intently.

“It was pretty far, but I found it- Eddie if you could just uh- put the wards away?” Richie asks, face creasing in pain, and Eddie quickly stuffs them back into the sack, and as soon as they're out of sight Richie looks better.

“You can hand me the Primrose though, it’s not a ward.”

Stan hands over the handful of the small bright yellow flowers and Richie checks each of them over for a moment before holding out two for them to take. They both grab a flower each, and Eddie stares at it incredulously. Before Eddie can slap his hand away, Richie is giving out a sigh of frustration as he cups Eddie’s own hand and shoves the flower into Eddie’s mouth. Before he can even consider spitting the sweet-tasting petals out, Richie is planting his palm across Eddies, keeping the flower firmly in place. 

“You’ve got to eat it,” Richie says, and seeing no other option under the gaze of those glittering eyes, Eddie swallows the flower whole. Richie pulls back, and Eddie coughs as the flower moves uncomfortably down his throat.

“You don’t need to force-feed me,” Stan says, quickly popping the flower into his mouth before Richie could even make a move to help along the process.

“You didn’t need to force-feed me either,” Eddie says wiping at his mouth with a look of disgust but Richie only snorts.

“What was that even for?” Eddie asks but Richie just holds up a hand for him to wait.

“It’ll kick in in a second.”

Eddie is about to ask if he’s just been drugged when something gets caught in his eyes. At first, it only seems like dust or pollen has messed with his vision, but as his eyes begin to clear the view in front of him suddenly changes. It’s like a layer of grimy film has been removed, because as Eddie reopens his eyes everything seems brighter, more vivid, Richie most of all.

“ _Holy shit_ ,” Stan whispers, blinking rapidly as they both stared in awe at Richie’s changed appearance. He looked between the two of them, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment.

“You have wings,” Eddie says in awe, staring at the large dragonfly-esque wings fluttering agitatedly behind Richie. They’re an amazingly intricate design, shimmering blues greens, and yellows. Like the most complex of stain glass pieces, except alive and moving with each new ray of light hitting them.  
  
“Uh- yeah, they don’t really work, they’re more decorative than anything,” Richie says awkwardly, and they flutter again catching the light in a fantastic way that draws Eddie’s eyes.

“They’re beautiful,” he says softly, nearly reaching out to touch them before realizing that probably wouldn’t be appropriate. Richie’s face goes even redder if possible, and the wings give one languid flap.

“You’ve had these the entire time?” Stan asks in wonder, and Richie’s shoulder suddenly drop, as his face goes deadpan.  
  
“Yes Stanley. The wings attached to my body have always been there.” Stan gives him a look, but he can shake the impressed gaze he keeps sending the wings way.

“And they don’t work?” Eddie asks, moving around to get a better look at them, and Richie’s head cranes to follow his movement.  
  
“Well, not exactly. They help me run faster, but I can’t fly. Not that I’d want to draw that much attention to myself anyway,”

“So we should be able to see It now- right?” Stan asks, rubbing at his eyes again, and Richie nods somberly.  
  
“Yeah and I’ll warn you now- It’s not pretty.”

“So- I guess it’s time,” Eddie says suddenly, realizing all of their prep work is done. It’s now or never.

“It’s time,” Richie says, and for a moment all they can do is stare at each other, worry, and fear clear across their faces.

Richie leads them farther into the forest than Eddie’s ever been. So far in fact that at a certain point Eddie realizes he can hear nothing but nature around them. Not the humming of electrical wires, or the low rumble of traffic on the street, or even the occasional other human voice. It is unnerving, especially with the task at hand, so far from anything but the forest. When they finally reach the gate it’s almost underwhelming. 

Like Richie has said, the gate is nothing more than a bigger version of the one Eddie had seen before Except this ring is made up of bloated, white mushrooms, and the smell of them is so sickening they make Eddie gag at first. Even Stan looks a little queasy at the sight.

“It can’t be hiding out at Neibolt all the time, Faeries don’t normally stay on this side for longer than a day. It’ll be back tonight to leave,” Richie says somberly, and they all stare in wonder at the thing that is a portal to another world entirely.

They get to work then, setting up the rest of Richie’s plan to trap and kill the beast.

Richie instructs them from a distance as they scatter the wards in a near-complete circle around the gate being careful not to step on the traps Richie had set up previously. They hope if all goes well, that they’ll be able to close the circle and trap the thing in plain sight.

They finish right before the sun sets fully, leaving the clearing in a red-orange tint that sets Eddie’s nerves on edge. It reminds him too much of the color of blood.

Richie’s already set up, they're lookout, tucked away from view but close enough the clearing and the gate are in full view. They go quiet as the sun finishes its descent, and twilight fills the forest in dark and whispery moonlight. They huddle close together and they wait.

It’s about an hour later, as Stan is trying to keep his eyes open, and Eddie’s legs are cramping horribly that he decides he needs something to keep his mind off the coming dread. Eddie knocks his elbow into Richie’s side carefully. Richie turns to him with one raised eyebrow and a small smile.

“You getting nervous?”

“No, not really.” There's relief in Richie’s eyes as he says this and he smiles encouragingly back. He turns away after a moment, fidgeting awkwardly before letting a small sigh. “How did you learn all this stuff- if you’ve been here since you were a baby?”  
  
“Don’t laugh but- my best guess is that it’s magically hardwired into every faeries brain. Really it just means I’ve always known I’m different,” Richie says and he gets this foggy faraway look in his eyes that Eddie hates immediately. He grabs Richie’s hand and squeezes, and Richie’s eyes snap to his, clearer now. 

“You know this doesn’t change anything right? You’re still- Richie, the only one I could care about anyway,” Eddie says, quiet but earnest. Richie’s mouth opens and closes several times, and it seems just as he’s about to really answer that they hear the first trap explode.

Richie had explained it earlier, the way the pressure-sensitive traps would once activated, fling salt and shaved iron in all directions. The howl that erupts from the other end of the clearing shakes the trees and startles all three of the boys into wakeful terror. It’s different this time then the piercing caws of a crow. It’s wet and raw and much too human-sounding, and it chills Eddie to the bone.

There’s another click as the wailing gets closer, and another of Richie’s traps go off as the thing finally stumbles from out of the dense forest. Eddie averts his eyes as soon as he sees it, and besides Richie, Stan groans in disgust. Eddie isn’t sure if it was the traps that had caused the oozing welts, but the disjointed limbs and rotting flesh were all its own. It didn’t walk, it couldn’t be called that, it’s like its arms and legs pinwheeled to push it forward, into the weak moonlight, and Eddie wanted to scream at the sight.

“We can’t let it get to the gate,” Richie says, hand moving for the iron fence post he’s had ready from the start. Eddie doesn’t want to move, can’t move with that thing moving so close by, but when he sees Richie getting to his feet, with too determined of a look he knows he can not stay behind. He grabs Stan’s hand then and when Stan looks at him with a mirrored look of horror he motions to the sack of leftover warding plants. They have to complete the circle.

“Hey, you big lug, not so high mighty now are you!” Richie walks through the gap in their wards, swinging the fence post in his hands wildly looking like a true force to be reckoned with. Eddie wants to run after him and pull him back in but Stan’s already laying out flowers, and Eddie has no choice but to keep focused.

The thing, with its bright yellow eyes, too many for Eddie to be comfortable with, cut to Richie quickly, some eyelids blinking lazily, others just rolling in their sockets landing in his direction. It rushes Richie, it’s broken, distorted gait too fast to be possible, but Richie’s somehow faster as he summersaults out of the way, his stained glass wings shimmering in the moonlight. The thing howls when Richie rights himself and Eddie sees through the fervor of his own work, that Richie has taken the fence post across the creature's side leaving a sizable gash, which has been left steaming an acrid smoke.

And finally, the last bits of wards have been placed and the circle is complete. Richie must sense this because as soon as Stan places the last flower he locks eyes with Eddie. But Richie doesn’t step over the line, and there’s a strain on his face that makes something stupidly obvious click in Eddie’s brain. 

He hadn’t even thought- had followed the plan so blindly. They’d trapped Richie in, just as much as they’d trapped It. Stan’s eyes are wide with fright, realizing their mistake too late. Breaking the ward would mean It would get free, and Richie would never forgive them for that. 

“ _Oh god,_ ” Eddie says, realizing exactly what he needs to do. Richie is staring stone-faced out at the lumbering pile of rags, bones, and flesh, but he’s not moving, he’s not attacking as he should. Eddie can smell It even yards away, like formaldehyde and putrid dying flowers. It’s the worst thing he’s smelled in his life but it doesn’t stop his next dire actions. 

“Eddie-?” Stan barely gets his name out before Eddie is charging into the clearing, easily over the wards.

“Over here!” The shout emanates from him like the shaking belt of a foghorn, and it stops the creature in its tracks. Richie’s eyes widen in surprise, but Eddie knows what he’s doing, if he can get It faced away, Richie should have no problem stabbing It in the heart. 

So he runs fast, around the clearing, waving his arms like some crazed Bullfighter waving the red flag. It follows, somehow more enticed by this stupid little human, but Eddie thanks his lucky stars for this. Somewhere along the way, his sting weed wounds had reopened, and there’s blood seeping down his legs again, each step a sharp reminder of this. 

And then his foot snags the tree root, and Eddie finds himself dazed on the forest floor. He’d hit his head on the way down, and he raises it, his vision blurry, distorted. There's no way he can get up fast enough.

Eddie doesn’t have anything on him, just the silver pendant, and now that he’s fallen, and the wounds on his legs have reopened, he feels incredibly useless. The faerie’s hidden eyes seem to find Eddie then, as it’s massive tree arms come crashing down near his legs. The bark-like skin is covered in bubbly plagued spots, diseased and rotten as it’s massive hand dispels dirt up into the air. _In some corner of his panic-maddened, screaming mind, Eddie is suddenly coldly sure that if that thing touches his bare skin he’ll begin to rot, too_. 

Fear is gripping him so hard he feels like he’s already dying, and he knows he won’t be able to escape it. The ground beneath the creature is bubbling and splitting, the grass withering beneath its touch, and Eddie can feel tears streaming down his face, hot and fast, and he just wants it to be over with soon. He just hopes he’s given Richie the time he needs to attack.

“ _Won’t you taste so sweet,_ ” the voice that greets his ears, makes him cry harder, heaving breaths in fear and pain it’s so horrible. Like something dead too long, with lungs that are dry and leathery, and vocal cords snapped. It lurches over him, It’s teeth, god so many teeth showing in a horrible, horrible smile. Eddie is certain he’s going to die.

It’s then that he hears the squelch of flesh, and he sees It’s many eyes blink back at him in surprise. It groans, limbs wobbling and above holding a bloody fence post aloft- is Richie.

 _Richie_ , who is floating- no flying six feet off the ground, his wings buzzing a furious beat as he stabs down again, and again into the beast's flesh.

It falls, three feet from Eddie’s shaking form.

It dies without much noise at all, for the wailing It did while alive. Its death rattle is simply a sigh in the breeze, as its body poses away into a thick gooey puddle of petrol. All that’s left by the end is a darkened patch in the Earth which Eddie can only look at in disgust.

Richie lands next to him with a weighty thud, feet touching back down to the ground forcefully. He tosses the fence post down to the blackened spot, and then carefully eases Eddie up onto his feet.

" _Trouble magnet,_ ” Richie says quietly, eyes tired but filled with relief, and then he’s collapsing into Eddie’s arms, shaking, and all Eddie can possibly do, is hug back. Stan joins them as soon as he can, stumbling as he breaks the warding, freeing Richie, and then he’s piled into the hug as well.

They’ve survived, and Eddie’s glad he has physical proof of the fact.

They still have to destroy the gate, but it’s a simpler matter than Eddie could have ever dreamed up. Richie pours the gasoline around the circle silently, as Eddie and Stan lean against each other, exhausted and coming down from the biggest adrenaline high of their lives. Richie lights the match, and the fire that follows is beautiful if haunting. Ghostly shapes jump out as they watch the gate burn silently, eyes glazed. They try hard not to think about what had crawled from it in the first place. 

Richie’s wings disappear from Eddie’s vision when the flames finally begin to ebb, and Eddie misses them instantly. 

Richie makes them stay, kicking dirt over the leftover smoldering ashes of the fairy ring, and by the time they're through the night is halfway through. Eddie’s nearly dead on his feet, and he finds himself leaning heavily on Richie as he finally calls it safe enough to leave.

They’ve only just started walking back, shuddering along, all shoulder to shoulder through the darkened woods, not feeling awake enough to be spooked when Stan stops them.

“Richie- your backpack,” Stan says tiredly, and Richie immediately waves him off.

“I’ll come back and get it tomorrow Stan, come on.”

“No I- I’ll go get it for you. Just wait for me,” Stan says, but the way he’s looking between the two of them, Eddie’s not sure this is all about the backpack. 

The moon is bright enough that Eddie doesn’t worry too much that Stan could possibly lose the way, and they wait patiently and quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“Is it over now? For good?”

“Yeah, I think- I think the worst of it’s over,” Richie says with a serious nod, and from the look in his eyes, Eddie believes him completely. But there’s something else nagging at his subconscious and he bites his lip as he asks-

“Will a gate like that ever open again?”

Richie blinks at him owlishly in confusion and shakes his head slowly. “One that big? No, they wouldn’t waste that much magic on the same spot like that.”

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Eddie says quietly, and Richie instantly makes a noise of bewilderment that has Eddie’s head snapping up to meet his gaze.

“ _Why?_ ”

“Just that- you got left here, and you destroyed a chance at getting back- _there_ ,” Eddie motions vaguely to the air around them and Richie lets out a very unattractive snort.

“Listen Eddie. I’ve never known anything but here. I wouldn’t leave this for all the faerie magic in the world,” Richie says placing a hand comfortingly on Eddie’s shoulder. He’s so close Eddie can count his freckles even in the dark.

“Well- I wouldn’t want you to leave anyway,” Eddie says, voice nearly a whisper, and when his eyes stray down to Richie’s lips, he sees with they quirk up into a smile.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t want me to go,” Richie says hushed, the words ghosting over Eddie’s lips were so close. And then Richie closed the distance, or Eddie did, or they simply met each other halfway. The kiss is like a sigh of relief, and Eddie melts into it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He’s grinning by the time they break away, so lost in Richie’s eyes and the lovesick gaze he barely notices Stan watching them both with a sly look.

“Finally, I thought I was going to be taking bets with Bev and Mike to see if you two kissed before homecoming.”

“You’re such a romantic Staniel, really, truly,”

Richie says, not pulling away completely, just letting the hand at Eddie’s shoulder move around, to wrap him in a full side hug. 

“I’m plenty romantic, I had faith it was going to happen at some point,” Stan says, tossing the retrieved backpack into Richie’s free hand.

“Why don’t we all just crash at my place tonight- unless you can’t Eddie-” Richie says suddenly, glancing down at Eddie for conformation.

“My moms going to have to get used to me not listening to her anymore, I’ll call her when we get back but I’m staying over,” Eddie says seriously, and the other boys grin at him in surprise.

“Great, my dad bought me Dark Souls III finally, and I want to crack that bad boy open.”

“You want to play dark souls after what we just did? We _just_ defeated our own fucking eldritch beast!” Stan balks, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at the idea as well. This thought didn’t seem to have occurred to Richie, but he was never one to back down from a suggestion.

“Seems like someone’s scared they won’t beat my high score,” Richie says with a grin, and Stan immediately rises to his bait.

“You haven’t even played it, how could you have a high score?”

With the two still bickering, Eddie entwined his fingers with Richie’s, and they all walked out of the forest together.


End file.
